Storm Of Thundera
by Clare
Summary: A story about Lion-O's great-grandson, set at a time when a long-dormant threat is resurfacing. My first new fic of 2004.
1. Chapter One

**

Chapter One

**

"Storm, are you paying attention?!"

The Teacher's sharp voice jolted me back to reality and I reluctantly turned away from the window through which I had been watching the older kids practising battle techniques. I longed to be out there with them, but, at nine years old, I was too young and was stuck doing Thunderian History. As a future Lord of the Thundercats it was especially important for me to learn as much as possible about our race's history, but the subject bored me stupid - who cared about things that happened long ago? All I cared about was willing the next two years to pass extra quick so I could begin my weapons training.

For now, though, I turned to face my Teacher, a sharp-faced female Serval. She took no nonsense from anyone, as I knew only too well. Sinking low in my chair, I mumbled a shaky reply. "Y - yes, Ma'am."

She adjusted her horn-rimmed spectacles. "Well, Storm," she said with her familiar penetrating stare, "perhaps you can tell me the name of the Thundercat elder who sacrificed himself to ensure the other Thundercats reached Third Earth safely." She folded her arms across her prim blue-grey dress and waited for my answer.

My mind raced through a list of possible answers - Jaga, Lynx-O, Tygra, Lion-O . . . No, I reasoned, it couldn't be Lion-O; he was my great-grandfather and, needless to say, I wouldn't be here if it had been him. In that case . . . I went back to counting names, painfully aware of a feeling of panic rising in my throat as it always did when I didn't know an answer immediately. Claudus? Panthro?

"I'm waiting!" my Teacher snapped impatiently.

There was nothing else for it - I just blurted out a random answer and hoped for the best. "Er . . . Lynx-O?" I ventured. Seconds later, the frown on her face told me my guess was wrong.

"No, Storm, it was _not_! Lynx-O did not become a Thundercat until after he and his companions were found on Third Earth. The answer, as you would know if you _had_ been listening, is Jaga . . ." She paused and sighed. "I think you'd better see me after class," she added before turning her attention to three girls who were giggling about Midnight, the latest teen pop sensation on New Thundera.

I wished the ground would open up and swallow me. My parents paid good money to send me to the best school on New Thundera and here I was messing up again.

--------------------------------

_I will not daydream in school_

I will not daydream in school

I will not daydream in school

I was in detention, being forced to write those same six words over and over. The Teacher sat at her desk, marking the morning's maths tests and looking up occasionally to make sure I hadn't sneaked out of the room. She had made it clear that I would not be leaving until I had written _I will not daydream in school_ one hundred times . . . I paused to count, whispering the numbers as my finger ran over the page.

" . . . sixty-three . . . sixty-four . . . sixty-five . . . sixty-six," I muttered to myself. "Oh great - another thirty-four to go!" My wrist was aching and I thought longingly of the plans my friends and I had made for the afternoon. Since we only had lessons in the morning, we were going to spend the afternoon down by the stream catching tiddlers in jam jars - now, even if I rushed through my punishment, I wouldn't have time. Why had I picked today of all days to let my attention wander? I sighed and forced myself to carry on.

_I will not daydream in school_

I will not daydream in school

At length, the Teacher began to speak; she wasn't angry, just deeply disappointed. "Storm," she said, "this is not the first time I have had cause to speak to you. You're a very capable boy, but you're just not trying as hard as you can. Your grades are, to put it bluntly, appalling. And, as for your knowledge of the Code of Thundera . . ."

"Justice, Truth, Honour and Loyalty," I recited as I'd been taught ever since I was old enough to say the words.

The Teacher sighed for the umpteenth time that day and ran her fingers through her collar-length hair, which was tan with black highlights. "Any three-year-old can _say_ the words, but you should be old enough to understand at least something of what they mean. And since you are a Thundercat, a future Lord of the Thundercats moreover, it is especially important for you. That badge on your shirt is not just for decoration."

I looked down at the black silhouette of a cat's head against a red circular background which emblazoned my dark green shirt. It was my Thundercat insignia and, like all Thundercats, I had to wear it at all times. It was a sign of my noble heritage, but I'd always felt it marked me out; children do not, as a rule, become Thundercats unless they inherit the title from their parents. For the umpteenth time, I wondered why I had to have the Lord of the Thundercats for a father. I carried on writing while the Teacher continued her lecture.

"One day, Storm," she told me, "you must shoulder a very great burden - the Mutants and Lunatacs must never be allowed to threaten us the way they did in Lion-O's day . . ."

"But that was nearly eighty years ago," I objected, putting my pen down for a second and turning round in my seat. "And didn't their leaders get banished to some place called Way Out Back?" I knew all about the Mutants of Plundarr and the Lunatacs who lived on that planet's moons; everyone on New Thundera did, even though very few now remembered when they had been any real threat. There was the occassional outbreak of trouble, but it was never anything the Galactic Police couldn't handle and, for the most part, the three races left each other alone these days.

"Good to hear you pay attention to that aspect of our history," the Teacher said flatly. "But we cannot take chances. If the Mutants ever did regain their old power, all we have built here on New Thundera could be destroyed. Above all, we must see that none bring Mumm-Ra back . . ."

I sat with my mouth hanging open. Mumm-Ra was the ominous figure parents used to threaten wayward children; they would say things like: "If you don't do as you're told, Mumm-Ra will carry you off." And now my Teacher was talking as if Mumm-Ra was real, not some childhood bogey. I tried not to laugh but failed miserably.

"Think Mumm-Ra's funny, do you?" the Teacher snapped, her hands planted firmly on her hips. "Think he's just a story to frighten cubs? If you spent more time listening and less time dreaming, you might have learned that he was, and is, as real as you and I. Talk to Wilykit if you don't believe me and see what she says. Meanwhile, you'd better get back to your lines."

I got back to my task, resolving as I did so to speak with Wilykit as soon as I had chance.

_I will not daydream in school_

I will not daydream in school

----------------------------

Wilykit was the last survivor from the Thundercats who served under my great-grandfather and was already in her early eighties when I was born. Ever since I'd known her, she had been a wise elder offering counsell to the next generation as many Thundercats do when they become too old to play an active role in defending the Code of Thundera. I'd seen pictures of her as a young girl with her brother, but it was hard to imagine her as anything other than an old woman whose snow white hair still had a distinctive stripe, now faded from jet black to pale grey. Her favourite outfit consisted of a long blue-grey gown with the Thundercat insignia on the left of the chest.

After what the Teacher had said, I just had to know if Mumm-Ra was real and Wilykit was the only one who could tell me anything. I had hoped to go straight to her quarters, but I'd barely crossed the threashold of Cats' Lair when I collided with something small and furry, something that felt suspiciously like a Snarf . . .

"And what time do you call this? Snarf snarf!" The words prompted me to look down at the speaker, a stout female Snarf with a mob cap perched on her head and a floral apron tied round her waist. For as long as I could remember, she had been there ordering me about.

"Sorry, Snarf Emala," I said, trying to squeeze by her. "The Teacher kept me after school."

Snarf Emala folded her arms and looked at me sternly. "For idling your lessons away, no doubt," she filled in, not moving from where she stood. Not for the first time I wondered if she had some sort of psychic powers; she'd always had a knack for knowing what I'd been up to even if I refrained from telling her anything. And I'd been subjected to her tedious lectures several times as well, forced to stand there while she berated me about "duty", "responsibility" and other boring subjects. What nine-year-old boy, even a future Lord of the Thundercats, wanted to listen to a Snarf going on and on about these things?

Predictably, Snarf Emala struck up her favourite "lecturing" pose, which consisted of her placing one paw on her hip and raising the other in a wagging finger gesture. "Storm, you will be our leader when Lord Feleo is gone," she reminded me for the umpteenth time. "And, whether you like it or not, that means you must act responsibly, snarf! How's it gonna look if we have a Thundercat Lord who got in trouble when he was a boy because he didn't apply himself to his studies? If you don't straighten up and fly right . . ."

At that moment, I was saved from further scolding by the arrival of Tigreta. As you may have already guessed, she was a female Tiger Thunderian, her long hair patterned in brilliant black-and-amber stripes. She'd been a Thundercat for just over a year, the first to join our ranks from outside that I could remember and the first female Tiger annointed as a Thundercat in living memory. The last had been Sita, but that was long ago, long before even the Destruction of Old Thundera. However, Tigreta had named one of her fifteen-month-old twin daughters for the original Sita.

"Storm, there you are!" Tigreta said with a mixture of anger and relief. "We've been waiting over an hour."

"Waiting?" I echoed. "What for?" I was grateful to Tigreta for saving me from another of Snarf Emala's lectures, but I was also puzzled as to why the other Thundercats wanted me. I knew there was an important meeting scheduled . . . for right about now, actually. Children were, as a rule, not allowed at these meetings so what did they need me for?

"Follow me and find out."

----------------------------

Arriving in the Council Chamber, I saw my father, Feleo, seated at the head of the table, the Sword of Omens at his side. To his right sat his consort and my mother, Lady Amber, to his left his lifelong friend and advisor, Pumar. Flanking them on either side were the other adult Thundercats. I counted their names in my head - Leopardo, Katron, Ocelotra, Lynxon and Lynxari, Felis and Fangelo. There was an empty chair where Tigreta usually sat and she resumed her seat as my father turned to look at me.

"Storm," he said, "I fear what our people have always dreaded may come to pass. The Mutants are rising again . . ."

My mouth hung open in astonishment and I was grateful Snarf Emala was nowhere in sight - otherwise, she'd have made a cutting remark about "catching flies". A long silence followed, broken only by a nervous cough from Felis and some nervous shuffling of feet from some of the others. It was clear that this was news to most of them; none of them looked like they had the faintest idea what to say next. Not even Ocelotra and she was usually the most outspoken of the current team of Thundercats . . .

"Father?" I ventured, my throat feeling like sandpaper. "Are you saying we'll have to fight the Mutants again, like in Lion-O's day?" Thunderians had lived in peace for nearly four generations and, free from any serious threats to our way of life, our civilisation had prospered. True, we did have the occasional villian to deal with, but the days when the Mutants were any real threat were long over - or so we had thought. Now, from what my father was saying, it looked as though those days could return.

"Yes," he told me. "As we must fight any who threaten the Code of Thundera. And that is why I am letting you start your weapons training early - you must be ready to defend yourself if you have to. Pumar?"

In response to his name, Pumar, a Puma Thunderian in his late forties, got up and walked towards me. As he drew level with me, he reached under his long grey cloak and handed me a large metal ring with a flat surface. I ran my finger round the outside. "Ouch! It's sharp!" I cried as I pulled away and sucked at the resulting cut.

Pumar smiled - he was the weapons' expert in Cats' Lair and had trained all the other Thundercats in the use of their weapons. It was said that there wasn't a weapon on New Thundera that he couldn't use, but he preferred a simple dagger if he ever had to fight himself. "You don't hold it like that, you spin it around your finger and throw it," he told me. "It's called a chakram and I thought it should serve you well until you inherit the Sword."

Gingerly, I took the chakram and placed it on my right forefinger. Then, I tried to spin it like Pumar had said but only succeeded in dropping it with a clatter. I was flustered - was I too clumsy to handle even the lightest weapons? And, if I couldn't handle a chakram, what hope did I have of ever wielding the sacred Sword of Omens? "What you trying to be, Storm?" Lynxon called out jokingly. "A circus clown?" He and his sister, Lynxari, were Lynx Thunderians in their teens, both of them given to teasing comments. I was used to their smart remarks, but, for some reason, Lynxon's words on this occasion really got to me. I was failing at school and I couldn't seem to handle weapons. Maybe I was only fit for a career in the circus . . .

Pumar looked at Lynxon sternly. "I seem to recall a certain Lynx who took two years to master his morningstar." Lynxon blushed and averted his eyes. "Don't worry, Storm," Pumar said to me. "You can't expect to be perfect the first time you try something. But, with a little practice, I'm sure you'll be ready for battle in no time."

I nodded resolutely and was about to leave when my mother called me back - she wanted me to hear the rest of what was said at the meeting. It wasn't very interesting, just a load of stuff about stepping up security and sending a spy satellite to Plundarr if need be. Whatever the Mutants were up to, my father said, could mean bad news for us. If they were indeed regaining their old power, there was every possibility that they could try to restore Mumm-Ra. Therefore, we had to be ready.

-------------------------

As soon as the meeting was over, I headed straight for the playroom where Wilykit and Snarf Emala were watching the other Thundercat children. Ocelotra's seven-year-old son, Hunter, was sprawled in a chair with a book open on his lap. We had been friends all our lives and had been responsible for so many pranks that Wilykit had once said we were the current generation's answer to herself and her brother. Looking at her now, an old woman seated in her favourite chair, I found it hard to believe she had ever been as wild and wayward as she said. Right now, she was rocking two cradles at once and humming an old Thunderian lullaby.

"Shh!" she whispered as I walked in. "I've just got Lata and Sita down for their nap."

I peered into the cradles, both of which contained an infant Tiger Thunderian of around one-year-old. They looked completely identical with their soft stripey hair and little button noses; the only way to tell them apart was by the colour of their rompers, pink for Lata and yellow for Sita. Even the patterning of their body stripes was the same for both of them and it usually varies between individual Tiger Thunderians.

Anyway, I looked at them for a moment, thinking of how innocent they looked and how, even as I stood there, the Mutants could be planning something that could destroy that innocence. Then, I remembered there was something I wanted to ask. "Wilykit?" I ventured.

She looked up. "What is it, Storm?" she asked.

"Do you . . . I mean, can you tell me something . . . about Mumm-Ra?" I'd rehearsed how I was going to ask the question in my head, but, when it came to it, the phrasing seemed clumsy and inelegant. I waited for a response. Hunter's book fell to the floor with a bump, Snarf Emala pricked her ears up and Wilykit looked at me seriously. Since she was the only one in the room who had been alive when Mumm-Ra was more than just a childhood bogey, she was the one I looked to for the answer.

"Mumm-Ra is pure evil," she told me at length. "He lived in a Black Pyramid on Third Earth and he sought to destroy us almost from the moment we landed there. We all feared him, but we hoped we'd be rid of him for good when Thundera reformed. But he followed us and it wasn't until your great-grandfather fought and vanquished him that he ceased to be a threat . . ."

"So . . . did Mumm-Ra die?" was my next question. But Wilykit shook her head.

"You cannot kill Mumm-Ra - he is the Ever-living Source of Evil. No, what happened was that he was sealed within the Book of Omens - and there he remains to this day." I nodded; my father had told me of the Book and its magical powers. For as long as I could remember, it had been kept in a vault deep within the bowels of Cats' Lair, a vault to which only my mother had the key. No-one was allowed down there without her permission and now I knew why. If that Book ever got into the wrong hands . . .

Wilykit must have seen me shudder because she stroked my hair soothingly. "Don't fret now," she said. "The Book of Omens is safe and will remain so as long as there are Thundercats to guard it. There's no need to worry about Mumm-Ra getting loose."

But, after what I'd just heard at the meeting, I wasn't so sure. "What if the Mutants somehow got a hold of it?" I asked.

"That will never happen - because we're not going to let it happen." For a moment, Wilykit's voice became as powerful as that of a female Thunderian warrior. "Do you understand, Storm?"

I nodded slowly.


	2. Chapter Two

**

Chapter Two

**

Five years had passed since I first learned about Mumm-Ra. During that time, I had grown up a lot and so had the other children in Cat's Lair. There had been new additions too; Lynxari now had a healthy three-year-old daughter called Sylvia, while Lata and Sita were the older sisters of Tigreta's baby son, Tigon. I spent most of my later childhood with Ocelotra's son, Hunter, who was closest to my own age. We did all the things normal kids do, but we both knew our status as Thundercats meant we must one day defend our planet so we also devoted plenty of time to weapons practice.

Hunter's chosen weapon was a quarterstaff, similar to the one Cheetara used to carry but without the telescopic properties. Instead, it was hollow inside and you could pour powders into in and use it as a blowpipe - if you could breathe out hard enough. Wilykit liked this aspect of it; she said it reminded her of the "bag of tricks" she and her brother used to use for weaponry. I, meanwhile, had my chakram and, under Pumar's expert tutelage, I was becoming quite proficient at throwing it.

Shortly after I turned fourteen, a chain of events began that would change my life forever. It all started on the afternoon I came home from school to find all the adult Thundercats grouped silently round a live tv news broadcast. I glanced at the screen. A female Thunderian in her late twenties (a Lion like myself, by the look of her) was talking into a microphone, the words **Breaking News** on the bottom of the screen.

"Experts say the Thundranium was released at the height of the afternoon rush hour," she was saying. "As yet, we have no way of knowing the extent of the damage . . ."

My mind blanked her out as I realised the implications. Thundranium, I recalled, was a substance that was deadly poisonous to Thunderians. It weakens our race if they touch it or inhale its fumes and, in the worst cases, it has been known to kill. A few rare individuals develop an immunity, but, for most Thunderians, exposure to this stuff can leave them weak and dizzy at the very least. "Mother?" I ventured, turning to where she was sitting next to my father. "What's going on?"

She turned round, a concerned expression etched on her attractive face. "Storm, thank goodness you're here," she said. "Someone's released a load of Thundranium in the Subway."

"Thundranium?" I echoed. "But who would do that? And how?"

"We're wondering the same thing," Leopardo said. "For one thing, whoever it was would need to get it onto the planet without being detected . . ." I knew exactly what he meant; for obvious reasons, there had long been an embargo on Thundranium. Spacecraft found to be carrying it would be turned back before they entered New Thundera's atmosphere and made to jettison their deadly cargo in the vaccuum of space.

Anyway, the screen showed a scene of complete chaos. Thunderians who had managed to avoid the worst of the Thundranium were racing to get clear before the fumes overcame them. In their eyes, I saw a look of blind panic, their minds focussed solely on their own immediate danger, completely oblivious to all else. It was as if something had possessed them, something that made them want nothing except to escape the scene before it was too late. There was no sound except the newscaster's voice describing what had happened, but I could hear the shouts and screams in my mind.

* * *

"This is serious," my father said, turning off the viewscreen and turning to look at us all. "The crisis we discussed five years ago may be coming to light."

"You mean that was the work of Mutants?" I asked from where I was sitting between my mother and Katron. The latter was a male mixed-breed Thunderian, the son of a Panther father and a Cheetah mother; his skin was grey like a pure Panther's and his hair was light brown with black spots. Unlike pure Cheetahs, however, he lacked the distinctive facial markings and, even though he was an exceptional athlete, he had never acquired Superspeed . . .

Anyway, he was the one who spoke next. "I fear it may be so, young Storm," he said. "The evil is rising again and it's up to us to stop it."

As he spoke, I glanced at my father. The Sword of Omens was by his side as usual and I felt a surge of power just looking at the blade that I too would, one day, wield as Lord of the Thundercats. From what I'd been told, it was an ancient blade, forged long before the destruction of Old Thundera and carried by every serving Lord of the Thundercats ever since. But it was more than just a badge of office, it symbolised who the Thundercats were. It (or rather the Eye of Thundera in its hilt) had the power to know when a Thundercat was in trouble. It could even be used to summon the Thundercats in an emergency, but, in this time of relative peace, it had not been used for that purpose for many years.

"I bet the Sword could stop it, Father," I said. Then, I frowned as a disturbing thought occurred to me. "But what if the Mutants try to take it and use it for evil?" I felt a shiver go up my spine.

"Not to worry, young Thundercat."

Everyone turned as Wilykit hobbled into the room, leaning heavily on her stick. Walking had become a considerable trial for her in the last few years and she seldom ventured out of Cats' Lair anymore. When she did travel, she always rode in a special buggy designed by Leopardo, our chief technician. But, like most elders, what she lacked in physical strength she made up for with her wisdom and her powerful presence. It was hard for me to believe she had once been an energetic young girl . . .

"Storm," she said, crossing the room and resting her wizzened hand on my shoulder, "that will never happen. The Mutants tried to take the Sword before, only to fail. Then, their leaders ended up in Wayout Back. I don't know who their current leaders are, but I doubt they'll try anything like that again."

"H - how can you be sure?" I asked, still doubtful. Wilykit was the only Thundercat old enough to remember the war between the Thundercats and the Mutants, but it had ended over eighty years ago. And eighty years is a long time - at least it seemed so to my fourteen-year-old mind - plenty of time for memories to get distorted.

"I know so. The Eye of Thundera can sense the motive of anyone who tries to wield the Sword - and it will never respond to an evil command."

I exchanged glances with my father, who nodded. He looked as though he was about to say something, but, before he could, the intercom rang. My father hurried across the room and pressed the button to answer it. A male human in a Galactic Police uniform appeared on the viewscreen.

"Lord Feleo, there's big trouble over on Third Earth!" he said in a desperate rush that was clearly trying to sound professional. "Mutants and Lunatacs are attacking!"

* * *

We all exchanged fearful glances as we absorbed his words. If the Mutants and Lunatacs were indeed attacking Third Earth, there was no telling how much damage they could cause. For one thing, it was said there was still some Thundercat equipment on the planet, left behind after the defeat of Mumm-Ra eight decades earlier. With the threat of him removed, the Thundercats had stopped sending patrols down to the planet and concentrated on building up a civilisation on New Thundera. But, Wilykit had told me, a lot of equipment was still on Third Earth and, if it still worked . . .

"Mutants and Lunatacs?" asked my father. "Where did they strike first?"

"The Bolkin Village - at least half the Bolkins have been taken captive . . ." The human paused and I growled in silent rage at the news. I'd never seen a Bolkin in the flesh, but Wilykit had told me a little about them so I knew roughly what they looked liked - sheeplike beings that grew to about the height of a six-to-eight-year-old Thunderian. They were a simple folk and did not, as rule, like fighting. They wouldn't stand a chance if what the human had said was true.

"What do you want us to do?" my father went on. "I don't know if you've heard, but we've got a crisis on New Thundera right now."

"Oh? And what crisis is that?"

It was Ocelotra who replied. "I don't know how it happened, but someone released Thundranium into the subway . . ." She paused and smoothed down her purple tunic. "So the Thundercats will need to stay here until . . ."

She got no further before Wilykit cut her off. "Until when, Ocelotra?" she asked with a forcefulness that belied her years. "It could take weeks, even months to find out who's responsible - the Third Earthlings need us now!"

Ocelotra stared at the older Thundercat. "Our people need us too, Wilykit," she argued. "Doesn't the Code of Thundera compell us to help our fellow Thunderians?"

I could sense an argument brewing and shivered in anticipation as the two female Thundercats locked eyes, the younger fiery with passion, the elder tenacious with age. Ocelotra had always had a stubborn streak; Leopardo and Tigreta, who were her age-mates, said she had been this way ever since she was a little girl. Even now, she was not the kind to give way in an argument. But Wilykit could be very forceful herself when she wanted to be . . .

"Pah!" she spat. "You young whippersnappers don't know what it was like when I was young! Every waking hour was spent watching out for the Mutants and, if they regain their old power . . ."

She did not need to complete her sentence; we could all tell from her tone of voice that things would be bad if that came about. Even Ocelotra appeared dumbstruck. She shrugged her shoulders and turned to my father. "Lord Feleo, what should we do?"

Every head in the room turned towards my father, all us hoping he would know what to do.

* * *

Presently, my father spoke, his voice radiating compassion and power as it always did. "All right - this is what we must do," he said to us. "Lady Amber and I will leave for Third Earth first thing in the morning. As for the rest of you, I will need four able-bodied adults to accompany us . . ." He paused for a moment before announcing the names of those who would go on this mission and I waited with baited breath, hoping my name would be called. True, he had said "adults", but I was sure I was close enough to adulthood. "Pumar, Ocelotra, Fangelo and Lynxari. All of you are excused to make preparations."

As the four Thundercats whose names had been called left, he turned back to the rest of us. "Those of you who will not be going to Third Earth must help with the relief operation," he explained. "Ocelotra is right - we have a duty to help our people."

Tigreta crossed her arms. "The question is, who released that Thundranium? Not to mention, why?"

"I bet I know why," I piped up, unable to keep silent any longer. "It was someone working for the Mutants! They wanted to distract us so they could do their dirty work on Third Earth!"

"That's quite possible, Storm," my father admitted. "And I will be asking the Galactic Police to look into it." 

"And us?" I asked, gesturing round at my fellow Thundercats.

"You must stay here, all of you. The people need their rulers at a time like this."

But my mind was already made up. I was not going to sit idly on New Thundera while my parents fought our old enemies. Instead, I was going to stow away on the Feliner III and go to Third Earth. I didn't know how yet - for one thing, I'd have to run the gauntlet of Snarf Emala - but I was going to do it. And, if I could talk Hunter into coming along too, so much the better.

* * *

Later that evening, however, I was playing cards with Hunter as I waited for the chance to broach the subject of stowing away, when a scream suddenly echoed through Cats' Lair. Lata, Sita and Sylvia, who were playing with their dolls nearby, looked up with a start as Tigreta hurried across to comfort her six-month-old son, Tigon. The latter had been woken by the scream and had chosen to voice his displeasure by doing some shrieking of his own.

"Lord Feleo! Lady Amber!" It was Lynxari's voice. "Everyone! Come quick!"

"What's going on?" Tigreta asked as we raced out into the corridor to find the Lynx Thunderian in a state of near hysteria. This was rare for Lynxari; she was normally a very calm young woman, no longer as inclined to tease as she had been when she and Lynxon were younger. So, clearly, something must be seriously wrong . . .

Lynxari was on her hands and knees, trying to mop up something that had been spilt from a tray. I vaguely recalled that she had offered to bring Wilykit her evening drink and my heart skipped a beat. Could something have happened to the oldest of our team of Thundercats? Was the last remaining link to Lion-O's time . . .?

Before I could complete the thought, my mother was at Lynxari's side, with the latter's husband close behind. Lynxari's husband was not a Thundercat and since, by tradition, only Thundercats were allowed to live in Cats' Lair, he lived in a nearby lodge instead. But he was a regular visitor and we all got on well with him. His name was Blaze and he was a Serval; although Thundercats had, again by tradition, tried to keep their bloodlines pure, intermarriage between difference races was common on New Thundera. So much so that some said there was hardly a Thunderian alive who didn't have some mixed blood . . . Anyway, Blaze gently helped his wife to her feet and asked her what had happened.

"Blaze, thank Jaga you're here!" Lynxari said, relieved but still close to tears. "It's Wilykit - she's . . ."

Before Lynxari could complete her sentence, Snarf Emala came running up, the Chain of Loyalty clasped in her paw. "Snarf! Look at this!" she told us urgently, holding the Chain up for all to see.

I had seen this Chain many times before. It was one of the ancient Treasures of Thundera, a gold chain with images of all the current Thundercats imprinted on it. Each image took up one disc; my father, as Lord of the Thundercats, had his directly to the right of the Thundercat Insignia in the centre, with that representing my mother on the other side. My disc was to the right of my father's. It was said that, if the Chain was ever broken, the Thundercats would start fighting among themselves until they were wiped out. However, it looked intact to me . . .

"Why don't you use the eyes the gods gave you, snarf snarf!" retorted Snarf Emala when I pointed this out. "Look!" She pointed to one of the discs with her paw.

I looked. It was Wilykit's disc, but the image of an elderly female Thunderian that was emblazoned on it was faded, barely visible. I could still make out a faint outline, but nothing in the way of detail. And that made realise what must be happening, what must have caused Lynxari's reactions. For, whenever a Thundercat's life came to an end, his or her image would vanish from the Chain . . .


	3. Chapter Three

**

Chapter Three

**

Deep down, I had always known it was bound to happen some time; after all, no living thing could last forever. But it still came as a shock when I saw Wilykit's image fading from the Chain. I think we had all grown so used to having her around, the last surviving link with Lion-O's era, that we somehow assumed she would go on forever . . .

But she wouldn't. After a long and eventful life, the oldest of the Thundercats was dying.

We all sat in Cats' Lair, waiting for the inevitable, our eyes constantly fixed on the fading image on the Chain of Loyalty. I had asked Lynxari what was wrong with Wilykit, only to be met with a shrug and a shaken head. Old age, the Lynx woman said, something which came to all of us eventually. She had, I later learned, found Wilykit collapsed in her quarters, apparently very disorientated and struggling in vain to get to her feet. That was when Lynxari "lost it" and dropped that tray; she had instinctively feared the worst and the fact that Wilykit's image was fading from the Chain confirmed it.

"What else is gonna happen?" I wondered, watching my father pacing up and down. I could see the tension on his face and realised that he too must be feeling the strain of the day's events. First there had been Thundranium released in the subway, then that attack on Third Earth, now this. It's not that I thought these events were tied in any way, but it seemed to me that our years of peace were coming to an end.

I glanced across at the other Thundercat children. Hunter was sitting opposite me, leafing through a book without really reading it, while Lata, Sita and Sylvia played quietly on the floor. I don't know if the three girls understood much of what was happening, but they seemed to sense the tension, the anticipation, and it made them less boisterous than usual. Normally, they would have been chattering away like a flock of birds, but, today, they just sat with their dolls on their laps and hardly said a word between them.

"Storm?"

I turned round at the sound of Snarf Emala's voice and saw her waddling towards me, dressed in her customary cap and apron. Normally, I resented the sight of her, largely because of her constant nagging and fussing, which, if anything, had grown worse over the last few years. If I put one foot wrong, she would go on for hours about the "duty" and "responsibility" of being an heir apparant. Like many Snarfs, she could be extremely fussy when the mood took her; therefore, I tried to avoid her whenever possible. Not that it was always easy . . .

Normally, I would have told her to go away - or at least ignored her. Today, however, I had a feeling I should listen to her. "What is it, Snarf Emala?" I asked, keeping my tone neutral.

"Wilykit wants to see you," she replied. "Best go to her before it's too late."

* * *

Sensing the importance of Snarf Emala's request, I decided to do as she told me for once and headed up to Wilykit's quarters. I entered to find her reclining on her couch with my mother and Ocelotra at her side, a serene expression on her old face. She looked up as I stood in the doorway, her red eyes showing a sparkle that belied her evidently very weak condition. "Storm," she said in a voice that was little more than a whispered croak, "come . . . closer."

I walked forward slowly, my gaze fixed on the trio of female Thundercats - Ocelotra with her intricately marked hair; my mother, Lady Amber, with the flame red hair of the Lions and Wilykit, oldest of the Thundercats and the last remaining link with Lion-O's time, with her snow white hair. The latter feebly raised her left hand and beckoned to me. I was shocked by how frail she had become in just a few hours, how much the gaunt spectre of death had taken her over; even though she had been elderly when I was born, she had never been this weak . . .

"Hurry . . . Storm!" she called in her croaky whisper.

For all her frailty, her tone conveyed urgency. So I hurried, my heart hammering as I wondered why I had been summoned to an old woman's deathbed. I wasn't related to her; Wilykit had had a child many years ago, a son named Nero, but he died in a tragic accident when he was just sixteen years old. She had spoken of him more than once, said I reminded her of him a little, but there were no pictures of him in Cats' Lair so I couldn't say if that was true or not. No, Wilykit had no living relatives; she was the last of her family's line, her twin brother having died childless.

Anyway, as I knelt at her side, Wilykit reached forward and ran her hand through my hair. "Storm," she whispered, "you, Hunter, Lata, Sita, Sylvia and Tigon are the . . . grandchildren I never had. And, as the eldest, you must be the one to . . . inherit my greatest . . . treasure."

I looked at her, wondering if she might be rambling in her confusion. This was the first time I'd heard anything about her owning treasure of any sort. Besides, what sort of treasure belonging to an old woman would interest a fourteen-year-old boy like me? I was about to ask her what she meant, but she answered my question for me.

"When your great-grandfather defeated . . . Mumm-Ra, we all wanted to . . . make sure there was no way he could be freed, even if . . . the Book of Omens and the . . . Key of . . . Thundera were . . . destroyed. So we . . . created a fifteenth Treasure of . . . Thundera, one which would ensure Mumm-Ra was imprisoned in the . . . Book for eternity . . ."

So there was another Treasure of Thundera. Those that were recovered in Lion-O's day were known to all on New Thundera; it was even said that some of them had helped save our world when it seemed it was going to be destroyed once again. The Book, however, was potentially dangerous; even though you could only access its deepest secrets with the aid of the Key of Thundera, such a defence would be little help if anyone ever sought to destroy the Book and release Mumm-Ra. That was why it was kept under such tight security. That was why we kept it locked in a vault which only my mother had access to. I suddenly recalled what Wilykit had told me five years earlier: "We will never let it happen." Of course, she was talking about the Book getting into the wrong hands . . .

Anyway, as I looked at Wilykit, she feebly reached under her robes and removed a brown leather pouch, which she handed to me. I was a little disappointed - was this the fifteenth and newest piece of the Treasure of Thundera? A simple leather pouch? "What's . . .?" I started to ask, before she cut me off.

"Never . . . judge by . . . appearances. That is the . . . most important . . . lesson for a . . . Thundercat Lord. It's what's . . . inside . . . that's . . . that's . . ."

"That's what?" I demanded after she had failed to complete her sentence for several seconds. But, as I looked at the old woman lying there with her eyes closed, her breathing becoming increasingly laboured, I knew she would never reply.

* * *

Just after midnight, Wilykit's long life finally came to an end. I was sitting beside her, still half-awake, when she gave a faint sigh as her chest fell for the last time. It took a moment for the truth to register, that I would never again hear her tell her stories of the past, that the last link with Lion-O's time was gone. Even then, I did not want to believe it . . .

"Wilykit?" I whispered, leaning across and shaking her. But there was no response; she just lay there serenely, almost like she was sleeping. Which she was, in a way, only this was a sleep from which there would be no awakening . . . Nonetheless, I wasn't about to let her go just yet. "Wilykit?" I called again, shaking her harder. It was at that moment my mother appeared at my side.

"Storm," she said gently, resting her hand on my shoulder, "it's all over." She held out the Chain of Loyalty for me to see and the first thing I noticed was that there was a blank disc where Wilykit's picture used to be. I stared at it mutely. So it was all over; Wilykit had passed into the mysterious realms of the Netherworld. I shook my head, wanting to banish the truth that was staring me in the face and, when that didn't work, I did something I hadn't done since I was about five or six.

Forgetting that I was a future Thundercat Lord and had to maintain a brave face at all times, I threw my arms round my mother and pressed my face into her chest. Ordinarily, I would have been embarrassed to do something like this, partly because I felt I was acting like a small child, but mostly because involved coming into close physical contact with a female. At fourteen, I was a slightly awkward adolescent, still not entirely sure what the opposite sex was for, an awkwardness which evne extended to my own mother. But, right now, I was too overwhelmed by grief to care.

I was only vaguely aware that my mother had wrapped her arms around me, holding me close like she used to when I was younger. We stood like that for several minutes, both of us lost in our thoughts and memories . . .

* * *

The next day, I sat alone in my room, examining the contents of the mysterious pouch Wilykit had given me. This consisted of a small fragment of what looked like white alabaster, one which had clearly been broken from a much larger piece. But what did it mean? I recalled Wilykit's dying words, how she had told me never to judge by appearances, but, for the life of me, I couldn't see anything special about this broken lump of stone. Was this the fifteenth Treasure of Thundera? A piece of broken rock?

If I hadn't known better, I would have sworn Wilykit had gone senile in her old age. But she hadn't; she had maintained all her faculties right up until the end. That last word hit me with a violent jolt - Wilykit's life had ended and, with it, any chance of asking her what I desperately wanted to know. I examined the lump of rock, trying to figure out what it might be; I could see what might be the outline of toes, but it was hard to be sure. If only Wilykit had remained conscious a few minutes longer, just long enough for her to explain what this was all about . . .

I was still sitting there, staring at the rock and trying to figure out what it had to do with keeping Mumm-Ra from returning, when the door opened. "Storm?" It was Tigreta and she sounded concerned. I looked up to see her standing in the doorway, a pained expression etched on her face, her left hand placed over the Thundercat Insignia on her tunic. Her eyes were rimmed with red.

"Yes, Tigreta," I said, my voice barely audible.

"Storm," she said again, dabbing at her eyes, "your father wants you. All the Thundercats must be there for . . ." She paused. " . . . for Wilykit's Lying in State." It was those words more than anything that brought it home to me. Lying in State was a traditional practice whenever a Thundercat died; their body would be dressed in their finest clothes and laid out on a catafalque for a few days before being laid to rest. The traditional period was seven days for males and five days for females. I had never witnessed this ritual, being too young to remember the last time a Thundercat died, and I wasn't entirely sure what to expect.

Anyway, I heaved a sigh and followed Tigreta downstairs to where the other Thundercats were waiting around a simple wooden table. The first thing I noticed was that a gap had been left as a mark of respect for Wilykit; it reminded me of the gap that now existed in all our lives, of the loss of our last link with Old Thundera. I blinked back my tears and walked to my traditional place beside my parents.

At a signal from my father, my mother banged a gong immediately behind her and four Thunderians emerged from the next room, bearing Wilykit's body on a bier. With perfect co-ordination, they carried her to the table and placed her on it, allowing me my first change to get a good look at a dead body. It was a bit disappointing at first sight; all I could see was what looked like the sleeping face of an old woman, her lined cheeks serene, her hands clasped on her chest. But there was an unnatural stillness about her, a stillness that reminded me of the piece of alabaster she had given to me . . .

I was jolted out of my thoughts by the sound of my father's voice. "My fellow Thundercats," he was saying, "our comrade, Wilykit, has passed into the Netherworld. Her mortal life was long, but, as with all things, it has proved finite." My mother placed a candelabra containing nine red candles, one for each decade of Wilykit's life, at the head of the old woman. Then, my father continued. "Felis, now that you are the oldest of us, would you please do the honours?"

With solemn ceremony, Felis stepped forward with a lighted taper in his hand. A spritely seventy-year-old Snow Leopard, he had been a Thundercat for over forty years, having been the last one annointed by Lion-O himself. In recent years, Wilykit had been advising him on the role of an elder and he had come to regard her as a close friend. Now, with her gone, he was the eldest of the Thundercats and it was his duty to light the candles in the candelabra at her head. I watched as he touched the wick of each candle with the lighted taper, waiting until it caught and watching as each flame grew. Soon, Wilykit's head looked as though it was surrounded by a halo of fire, a fire which would be kept burning for the next five days.

* * *

Even in the midst of grief, life still went on and, the very next day, my parents departed for Third Earth, along with Pumar, Ocelotra, Fangelo and Lynxari. I watched them go, all thoughts of stowing away on board the Feliner III forgotten as I reflected on recent events. I had been entrusted with something I still didn't understand, but that would have to wait. Right now, those Thundercats who had remained on New Thundera had a funeral to organise.

Since I was not yet of age and both my parents were absent, Leopardo was the one who assumed command. He was the one who ordered the building of a mausoleum for Wilykit, a large tomb where she could rest for all eternity. Made out of white marble, it was set on the slope of a hill overlooking our city, allowing her to watch over us even if she was no longer physically with us. Leopardo also delegated tasks to the other adult Thundercats. Lynxon and Katron were given the job of looking after the tributes flooding in from all over New Thundera, while Felis had the task of writing the eulogy. Meanwhile, Tigreta and Snarf Emala were keeping an eye on myself and the rest of the kids, in theory at least. In practice, I tried to give them the slip whenever I could and so did Hunter.

Again and again, we looked at the piece of rock, trying to figure out what it meant. But we had no clues, no hint that could point us in the right direction; all we had to go on was what Wilykit had told us about it being a fifteenth Treasure of Thundera. But that failed to explain how it was supposed to keep Mumm-Ra in check and it looked as though Wilykit was taking that secret to the grave - literally. If only she could have hung on longer, I might know what I was dealing with. I even found myself wishing she could become my spirit guide the way Jaga had once been Lion-O's.

On the day of the funeral itself, I assembled with the rest of the Thundercats in front of a vast crowd of Thunderians. I paid scant attention as Wilykit's body, draped in a cloth bearing the Thundercat Insignia, was brought out and laid before the crowd. Nor did I take much notice as Felis made his speech, although I did catch some stuff about her being the "mother of Thundera" and her "wisdom and compassion". All that meant little to me; all I wanted was for our dead elder to be placed in her tomb so that we could carry on with our lives. Not meaning any disrespect, but funerals bored me stupid.

Then, just as Wilykit was about to be laid to rest, a sudden noise made us all look up. Three Mutant craft were circling above our heads, each one piloted by an ugly-looking Reptilian. I recognised them as Skycutters from a picture I had seen once and found myself smiling; the design of those things hadn't changed in over eighty years. But what was going on here? Why had those Reptilians dared come here now of all times? Before I could ask myself any more questions, three lots of laser fire blasted into the crowd . . .

* * *

Mass confusion erupted. Many of the Thunderians present flung themselves to the ground in a bid to avoid the lasers, while others, incensed at this intrusion, started shouting abuse at the offending Mutants.

"You slimy freaks!" Tigreta shouted from where she was trying to shield Lata, Sita, Sylvia and Tigon, all of whom were wailing with fright. "Have you no respect!"

"This is a funeral!" yelled a middle-aged Cheetah woman in the front row.

"Go back where you came from, you overgrown lizards!" snarled Lynxon. I could see he was itching to give the Reptilians a good thrashing if they dared to come any closer. At twenty-one, he was the youngest of the adult Thundercats, but he was already deadly with his morningstar . . .

At this, one of the Reptilians brought his Skycutter in closer, near enough for me to see him clearly. He was a hideous creature by Thunderian standards, his body covered in thick grey-green scales, his head flattened with fangs protuding over his lower lip, his neck so short that he seemed not to have one at all. A powerful tail with ridges down the back of it grew out of his backside and he wore no clothing except a ragged grey loincloth. It was my first sight of a living Mutant and I found myself staring at him with revolted fascination.

Then, he spoke and I heard for the first time the sibilant hiss of Reptilian speech. "Thunderianssss, heed my wordsssss! I, Lizariussssss, come to you with an ultimatum. You will sssssssurrender the fragment of the sssssstatue or you will all be dessssstroyed! Every male, female and cub!"


	4. Chapter Four

****

Chapter Four

The entire scene had erupted into mass confusion, all thoughts of the fact that we were supposed to be laying the oldest of the Thundercats to rest forgotten. Lizarius' words had struck fear into the hearts of everyone present, reminded us of stories we had heard as children. Those stories told of the old days when the Thunderians and the Mutants were still at war; it was said that the Mutants lived only to conquer and had long tried to subdue the people of Thundera. Thanks to the might of the Thundercats (and the Mutants' own incompetence) these attempted conquests had never succeeded. But that was not what concerned us right now; the demand Lizarius had made was.

Leopardo stepped forward and addressed Lizarius, trying his hardest not to show his contempt for the Reptilian. "My good Mutant," he said, prompting a few smiles. No Mutant was ever refered to as "good" on New Thundera; the mutual dislike our races shared still existed even now. "I fear we cannot do as you have asked because we do not know which fragment you refer to."

Lizarius' only response was an angry hiss, as he bared his sharp teeth. "The fragment of the Sssstatue, you fool!" he snarled. "The Ssssssssstatue fashioned to keep the mighty Mumm-Ra imprisssssoned. We know it issssssss on New Thundera - now hand it over!" As if to prove he wasn't bluffing, Lizarius turned his Sky-Cutter round and pointed its gun directly at Tigreta and the children. "Or I will blasssssst thessssse bratsssssss!"

I could see Leopardo was struggling with his dilemma, his forehead knotted with conflicting options, neither of which were very pleasent. If he handed this fragment of statue over to Lizarius, it could well mean the return of Mumm-Ra, a being long banished to the realms of history, a being who was little more than a demon of the past. If he returned, there was no telling what dreadful revenge he would wreak upon our people for imprisoning him. And yet, if Leopardo did not do as Lizarius ordered, Lata, Sita, Sylvia and Tigon were doomed - before they had seen anything of life. To Thunderians, there are few abominations worse than harming a child.

* * *

"All right, we'll do it."

Leopardo's voice was flat and carried the defeated tone of one forced to do something they don't want to do but left with no alternative but to do something far worse. "We'll hand the fragment over. Even for the sake of keeping Mumm-Ra at bay, we cannot sacrifice children." I had never seen the powerful Leopard Thunderian like this before; he was usually one of our bravest warriors, proud to serve as a Thundercat. And he had just given in to a Mutant's demands for the sake of four small children - he hadn't even tried to put up a fight.

Already, I could hear murmurings of discontent.

"Selling out on us!"

"Traitor!"

"He should be stripped of his title!"

"No Thundercat would have done that in Lion-O's day!"

The last remark came from a female Thunderian a little younger than the recently deceased Wilykit. I had never seen her before, but she was obviously a mixed breed; her facial markings were the same as those found on Cheetahs, but her hair was plain. It was hard to tell what the other half of her heritage might be and I was soon distracted out of any speculation I might have done by Tigreta's response to the old woman's words.

"And no Thundercat would allow a child to come to harm!" she said coldly. "You know Leopardo better than that, Leah. He wouldn't do this if had any choice in the matter." She drew the four children close to her. "Take a good look. Ask yourself what sacrifices you would make to keep these cubs safe."

Leah looked as though she was about to reply, but, before she could do so, Lizarius spoke again. "Very well. You have one hour to ssssssurrender the fragment - or you will ssssssssuffer!" With that, he and his fellow Mutants took off in their Sky-cutters and disappeared from view. "We'll be back, Thunderiansssssss!" was his parting shot.

* * *

As soon as Wilykit was safely in her tomb, we headed straight back to Cats' Lair, all of us shaken by this new development. As soon as we got back, I went to my room and took out the fragment of stone Wilykit had given me. It certainly looked as though it could be part of a statue, but was it part of the statue Lizarius had mentioned? And, if so, where were the other pieces? And did this have anything to do with the strange events of the last few days?

I was still pondering that when Katron and Leopardo walked in. "This is it, isn't it?" I said flatly, holding up the chunk of rock. "This is what the Mutants want."

Both Thundercats nodded in unison. "But we're not going to let them get it," added Katron, who was carrying something concealed in a dark blue cloth. "We always knew something like this might happen, so we prepared for it." He whipped the cloth away to reveal a piece of stone identical in every respect to the one I was holding. "A plaster imitation," he explained. "We'll give it to Lizarius and he'll be fooled into thinking it's the real thing and leave us alone."

"Meanwhile, the real fragment will be far away . . ." added Leopardo, directing a conspiratorial wink in my direction.

* * *

The arrangements for my escape were made hurriedly; there wasn't much time for me to get clear of New Thundera before Lizarius' deadline expired. So, with the fragment of stone in my backpack, I was bundled into the Thundershuttle, a small spacecraft which Leopardo had designed. Unlike the Feliner craft, which had been around since Lion-O's day, this was not a large ship; it could carry two people in some comfort, five with a little squeezing. But, with the Feliner III gone, it was the fastest craft we had - and the only one capable of travelling in interstellar space.

Leopardo gave me a few last-minute pointers before I was blasted off. "OK, Storm, I've set this thing to autopilot, so you won't have too much to worry about. But, if you get into difficulties, that . . ." He indicated a button on the control panel. " . . . is the manual over-ride. Only use it in an emergency, OK?"

I nodded, still barely able to contain my excitement at the thought of going on my first real mission. I had no idea what was going to happen to me, no idea what I would encounter, but, with my fourteen-year-old self-confidence, I was sure I could handle it. After all, I was a Thundercat - and a future Lord of the Thundercats at that. My only regret was that Hunter, my friend since early childhood, could not come along, but Leopardo and Katron had decided he was still too young. There would be other missions for him, they said, other chances for him to fight for the Code of Thundera.

I was startled out of my thoughts by a robotic voice saying: _"Blast off in twenty seconds. Please fasten your safety belt and make sure the airlock is secure."_ This was it; I was about to leave New Thundera for the first time in my life. I quickly strapped myself into my seat and scanned the control panel to confirm that the words **Airlock sealed** had lit up. Then, I felt the craft vibrating beneath me as it took off into the sky, a chill of excitement enveloping me as I exited New Thundera's atmosphere.

I examined the fragment of statue, wondering as I did so who it was meant to represent and hoping Leopardo and Pumar's ruse would work. If it didn't, if the Mutants continued to pursue the real fragment, there was no telling where this would end.

* * *

It did not take long for New Thundera to completely disappear from view as I exited our solar system. As the planet of my birth faded from view, I couldn't help thinking of those who had fled Old Thundera before it was destroyed. How had they felt leaving their home planet behind? Especially since they believed they could never return, that their world was soon to be torn to pieces . . . I would never fully understand; there were few living Thunderians who did.

But one thing I did know was that I must find out the secret of this fragment of statue. Wilykit had said it was a powerful artefact, possibly the only thing that could vanquish Mumm-Ra once and for all should he somehow be freed from the Book of Omens. I did not know why, but some instinct told me that there was a purpose to all this - the release of Thundranium on the subway, the crisis on Third Earth . . . somehow (don't ask me how) I knew the two things were connected.

But that would have to wait - right now, I was alone in space, on a mission I still didn't fully understand. And, with the craft set to autopilot, I had no control over where I went. All I could do was put my trust in Leopardo and his skill with machines. All I could do was hope my fellow Thundercats could deal with the crises which had landed me in this, which had forced me to embark on this journey into the unknown . . .

Suddenly, I was startled out of my thoughts by something on the viewscreen. That something was another spacecraft, but it was too far away for me to see whose it was and the viewscreens on the Thundershuttle had no zoom facility, preventing me from getting a closer look. What spacecraft was this? And who did it belong to? There was only one way to find out - I had to try and contact whoever was on board. But what if they were an enemy?

There was only one way to find out. My hand trembling slightly, I pressed the switch which activated the Thundershuttle's radio.

* * *

"Er . . ." I hesitated, unsure what the protocols for contacting unidentified spacecraft were. "Unknown craft, this is the Thundershuttle and I am a Thundercat! Identify yourself or I'll blast you out of the sky!"

There was a pause, followed by a female voice over the radio. "Hah! I'd like to see a kid like you try, even if you are a Thundercat!" Her tone sounded scornful, but I still couldn't tell who she was or even what race she belonged to, only that her accent was wrong for a Thunderian.

"Less of the "kid" stuff!" I shot back. "And who are you anyway?"

"Don't you know me?" This time, there was an edge of surprise in her voice. "Well, I'll tell you - I am Icelia, daughter of Lord Froston! An Ice Clan Lunatac!"

I digested her words in silence - so this was what a Lunatac sounded like. I had never seen one in the flesh, but I had been told about them and I had seen pictures. From what I'd heard, I knew a group of them had been allied with Mumm-Ra back in Lion-O's day, but that was decades ago, before this Ice Lunatac was even born. But could I trust her? After all, I'd been warned all my life that Lunatacs were (or had been) an enemy of Thunderians . . .

"Shocked you, have I?" Icelia's voice came through again. "To be honest, I never thought I'd end up talking to a Thundercat," she laughed.

"Just what is it you want?!" I demanded, realising she was doing everything she could to stall for time. "And what are you doing so close to New Thundera's solar system?"

"I came to see Lord Feleo," Icelia replied simply, "on a matter of some urgency."

"Well, you're too late - he's taken a delegation to Third Earth." I was still a little suspicious of Icelia's motives and couldn't help wondering why she wanted to see my father. Was she somehow mixed up in what had been going on lately? Did she know anything about the crisis on Third Earth which my father and the others were investigating? I guessed not - otherwise she would have known he was not on New Thundera. But that still didn't mean I could trust her . . .

* * *

"Look," Icelia said after a few minutes during which I debated with myself over whether or not I could trust her, "I know you probably don't trust me and, frankly, I don't blame you. But there's something you need to see . . ."

Suddenly, the viewscreen flickered and the vast expanse of stars was replaced by the image of a woman with ice-blue skin and shimmering white hair. Her eyes were a deep golden colour and, on her forehead, there was a small crescent-shaped mark as well as two tiny horns. She wore a dark green gown, with a gold circlet round her neck and a gold armband on her left arm. And she was young - I judged her to be in her early twenties at the most, making her around the same age as Lynxari.

She held something up in her hands and I did a double take - it was a fragment of alabaster the exact same colour as mine! Hers was slightly rounded, like an arm bent at the elbow. The mystery of Wilykit's legacy to me deepened in that instant. Was the fragment Icelia held also part of the statue Lizarius had mentioned? And, if so, how had it come to be in the possession of a Lunatac?

"Where did you get that?" I demanded, examining my own fragment.

"It was given to me," Icelia replied simply. "By an elder of my people - he told me to bring it to New Thundera, to the Thundercats . . ." Her voice trailed off and I wondered once again just where all this was leading. Even though I had been born long after the war between the Thundercats and the Mutants and Lunatacs ended, I still harboured a deep-seated mistrust of the two races.

"What for?" My tone was sharp.

"Because . . ." Icelia paused for a moment. "Because the Mutants are looking for it."

"Why should that bother you? I thought you were on the same side as those slimeballs." As I spoke, I felt a pang of disgust at the mere thought of Mutants, the old enemies of my people, and images of Lizarius's cruel face played in my mind. What would he do when he found out Pumar and Leopardo had tricked him? And why did he want that fragment of statue to begin with?

"Not anymore," Icelia replied. "Not since what happened on the Ice Moon . . ."


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

I struggled to digest Icelia's words, wondering what could have happened on the Ice Moon. Had something happened to her people and, if so, what? Did it had something to do with the fragments of statue we both carried?

There was only one way to find out. "What are you talking about?" I demanded, keeping my guard up. Despite what Icelia said, she was still a Lunatac and I wasn't entirely sure if I could trust her. What if her claim that the Ice Lunatacs were no longer on the side of the Mutants was a lie, a ruse to trick me into trusting her? I narrowed my eyes. "I'm in kind of a rush here," I added, recalling that I had been told to get to Third Earth as quickly as possible.

Icelia paused for a moment. "The Ice Moon . . ." She hesitated, her voice wavering. " . . . is no longer home to my people. Not since the Mutants launched their Doomsday Missile . . ."

A Doomsday Missile? I had vaguely heard of such things; they were said to be missiles so powerful that they could take out an entire planet with one blast. For obvious reasons, their use had been forbidden for centuries and was punishable (in theory at least) with a life sentence on the Grey Penal Planet, the planet that served as a giant prison for all the worst scum of the universe. But the prohibition against their use was so well understood that this law had never been enforced in living memory. And, then, there was the question of why the Mutants would launch such a device against a race that was meant to be allied with them. Especially when, in all the years they had been at war with Thundera, they had never used one on my people . . .

I must have said that last bit out loud without thinking because the next thing Icelia did was look at me with a serious expression etched on her face. "Because they want the Statue," she told me. "And they will stop at nothing to obtain all the pieces. Not even turning on old allies . . ." There was an edge of bitterness to her voice as she said those last words. Then, without waiting for me to reply, she hurried on. "There are only a handful of Ice Lunatacs left now - and we spend every day living in fear."

"Fear?" I echoed. "Fear of what?" From what I'd heard of Lunatacs, they were usually the ones who were feared; it was hard for me to picture them living in fear of anything.

"Of the Mutants. They are gaining in strength once again and they seek to restart the war with your people. But, first, they must release Mumm-Ra and that's what they need the Statue for." This was something I already knew, of course, but she still hadn't explained why the Ice Lunatacs had broken off their old alliance - and I lost no time in telling her so. "As to that," she went on. "There have always been a handful of Lunatacs who wanted to break with Plundarr, but none of them dared do it because of the Unbreakable Treaty."

"Unbreakable Treaty?"

"It's exactly what it says. When the Mutants landed on the Moons of Plundarr, they forced the leaders to sign a treaty which, should it ever be broken by any one of the Lunatac clans, would cause that clan to be destroyed. That treaty made the Lunatacs answerable to Plundarr and . . ."

"It's an interesting story!" I snapped, my impatience bubbling up inside me. "But it still doesn't explain what this has to do with the Statue!"

"You'll find out," she told me, "when we get to Third Earth."

* * *

With that, she broke contact and I was left to ponder her words. Could I trust her? I had been taught all my life that the Lunatacs and the Mutants were Public Enemy Number One as far as Thunderians were concerned. In the days of Old Thundera, the Mutants were a constant menace, willing to do whatever it took to conquer the planet and gain possession of the Eye of Thundera. In fact, from what I'd been able to piece together in the last few years, that was what prompted the Mutants to pursue the Thundercats all the way to Third Earth. As for the Lunatacs, I had been told they were a proud and ruthless race, willing to do whatever it took to get what they wanted.

But, if Icelia's people had a part of the Statue, maybe they would be able to fill me in on what all this was about. If this wasn't a trick to lure me into giving up my own fragment . . . That, however, would have to wait until I got to Third Earth.

I began to wonder what Third Earth was like. I'd read a bit about it in the last few years, enough to know that it was the third planet out from its sun and that its name derived from the fact that there had been two great cataclysms in its past. Exactly what those cataclysms had been was lost in the mists of time, but, from what I'd read, very little of the two previous civilisations had survived. Now, it was a wild, untamed planet, inhabited by strange creatures, some good and some evil.

Wild and untamed or not, I had to get there quickly. And, to do that, I would have to activate the Hyperlight drive which Leopardo had installed; this would enable the Thundershuttle to travel the countless light-years that lay between here and Third Earth. I reached towards the button on the control panel that was marked **Hyperlight** and pressed down on it with the palm of my hand.

* * *

It's hard to describe to someone who has never experienced it how travelling by Hyperlight feels. So I won't even try. I'll just say that, the next thing I knew, I was in orbit around a planet; through the telescreens, I could see white clouds in the planet's atmosphere, as well as water covering much of its surface, a sure sign that this planet supported life. Thanks to the program Leopardo had fed into the onboard computers, I also knew this had to be Third Earth - there was no doubt about it. All I had to do now was locate the Thundercats who were already on the planet and, since I didn't have the Sword of Omens (my father had it) I would have to use the Thundershuttle's radio.

I activated the microphone and spoke into it. "Father? Mother? Ocelotra? Is anyone there? Are you receiving me?"

There was pause of several seconds, before a voice came through, Fangelo's voice. "Storm?" The mighty Sabretooth warrior's voice had an edge of concerned anger to it. "What are you doing here? We left you on New Thundera with the rest of our children."

"I'll explain later," I said, feeling slightly annoyed at being called a "child". "Right now, I need to know where you are."

"We're with the Warrior Maidens, what's left of them at any rate," Fangelo replied. "Seems someone launched an attack on their Treetop Kingdom, destroyed it completely. Tia - that's their Queen - was patrolling with a dozen of her Maidens at the time, so they all survived. But the others . . ." He paused, unable to go on and I knew immediately the full enormity of what had happened. Whatever was happening on Third Earth had to be connected to the strange events of the past few days. I had to find my fellow Thundercats quickly.

"Where are you now?" I asked.

"Inside Cats' Lair," Fangelo replied. "The one the Thundercats built on this planet. Most of the equipment still works, so Lord Feleo decided to use it as a base while we were here."

Cats' Lair - that should be easy to spot. I had been shown pictures and knew it consisted of a fortress built into a cliff-face, with a retractable bridge providing access. And, like the Cats' Lair on New Thundera, the whole thing was dominated by an outsize carving of a cat's head, proclaiming it as the home of the Thundercats. All I had to do was keep an eye for a building which matched that description.

* * *

Unfortunately, I had no idea which direction to head. I thought about searching from the air, but I didn't want to risk running out of fuel, so I landed the Thundershuttle in a clearing and continued my search on foot. As I walked, I was constantly on the alert for trouble, ready to use my chakram to defend myself if need be. And, since I did not know where I was going, I just picked the first path I came to and began to follow it in the hope that it would lead me, if not directly to Cats' Lair, to someone who could tell me which way I must go.

It was no summer afternoon stroll, I'll tell you that. The forest was deep and dark, so dark in places that, even with a feline's ability to see in low light conditions, I could barely see where I was going. And my ears were constantly listening out for danger - perhaps, that was why I attacked without thinking . . .

It happened just as I was nearing the heart of the forest; I heard movements behind me, movements which seemed to stop and start whenever I did. Someone was following me, but were they friend or foe? Wasting no time, I hurled my chakram into the trees and, seconds later, had the satisfaction of hearing someone cry out, letting me know that I had hit my target.

But, when I lifted the bushes to see who or what I had hit, my elation quickly turned to guilt. The thing I had hit was a small boy with dark curly hair and tanned skin, who wore a simple red tunic and light brown trousers, a member of a race I had never seen before. What had I done? I would never have knowingly targetted him; Thundercats were supposed to protect the weak, not attack them. I knelt down beside him and began to clean the cut my chakram had left on his forehead, hoping that I would be able to repair the damage I had done. "I'm sorry," I whispered as I swabbed the cut. "I didn't mean to hit you - I just thought you might be an enemy . . ."

At this point, he groaned slightly. "W - what?" Looking closer, I realised that, despite his short stature, this was not a child; rather, he was an adolescent like me. His height, roughly the same as Lata and Sita, was deceptive. But who . . . what was he? I must have asked those questions out loud because the next thing he said was: "I'm a Wollo - my name is Koris. Who are you?"

"Storm of Thundera, future Lord of the Thundercats," I told him. "I'm supposed to meet my parents and the other Thundercats in Cats' Lair. I don't suppose you know where that is?"

To my surprise, the next thing Koris did was grab hold of my hand and start kissing it repeatedly. "Thank goodness! I've been looking for the Thundercats all day, ever since _they_ attacked!"

"Who's "they"?" I asked, pulling my hand out of his reach.

"The Mutants and Lunatacs!" Koris's eyes were wide with fear. "They attacked our village, razed it to the ground! I was the only one who managed to get away."

I looked at Koris for several seconds, recalling as I did so everything I had been told about Wollos. Like the Bolkins, they were a simple folk who rarely (if ever) resorted to violence, yet it seemed they had been the targets for another seemingly senseless attack. "Mutants!" I thought bitterly, recalling everything I had learned about their race and their long war with Thundera. Though that war was long over, it seemed certain members of the Mutant race wanted to start it up again and would attack any race who had been allied with the Thundercats in the past. But why? Did it have something to do with the Statue which had been broken into fragments?

At length, I spoke. "You mentioned that Lunatacs were involved. Could you tell if any were from the Ice Clan?" The reason I asked was because I had not been able to stop thinking about Icelia, wondering if what she had told me was true or an elaborate trap designed to trick me into trusting her.

But Koris shook his head. "I don't think so. But I've never seen Lunatacs before, so I can't be sure."

"Did any of them have pale blue skin?" I asked. "And white hair?"

Koris paused, frowning for several seconds. "Now that you mention it, no. I didn't see any who looked like that," he said at length. "Anyway," he added to change the subject, "I heard the Thundercats were back on Third Earth, so I set out in search of them and that's when I ran into you."

* * *

Since we were both heading for Cats' Lair, Koris was only too willing to escort me. It turned out that he knew the area well, having spent much of his youth exploring the forest, and was able to tell me a great deal about the races which inhabited Third Earth. As we walked, he told me of his only people, the Wollos, and also of the walrus-like Tuskas who lived on the coast, the gentle unicorns and their two humanoid keepers, the primitive Brutemen who could only communicate in simple grunts . . . These were just a few of the beings which called this planet home.

At length, we approached a small village consisting of several round huts built around a square, which was bordered by several large fields containing crops the likes of which I had never seen before. One field contained row upon row of bushes whose fruit resembled bunches of candy cane, while another contained bushes which looked as though they had loaves of bread growing on them. But the strangest thing was the village's inhabitants; they resembled plump bears whose bodies appeared to be made almost entirely out of metal, with just a few patches of fur around their heads and shoulders. They did not appear to have mouths.

"What are they?" I whispered to Koris as a group of the metal bears approached us.

"Berbils," Koris whispered back. "Ro-bear Berbils, to give them their full name. It's said they were friends of the Thundercats in the old days and . . ."

He was cut off as one of the Berbils began to speak. "Welcome," he said. His voice was gentle but robotic and a light flashed in the area where his mouth should have been as he spoke. "I am Ro-bear Bill. We . . ." He indicated the assembled robotic bears. " . . . are the Ro-bear Berbils. You are welcome, descendent of Lord Lion-O."

I was stunned. I had barely met this creature, so how could he know who I was? "H - how do you . . .?" I stammered, forgetting for the moment that, as a future Lord of the Thundercats, I was supposed to appear self-confident at all times. However, Ro-bear Bill's words had rendered me temporarily speechless.

"I knew Lord Lion-O more than eighty years ago," Ro-bear Bill replied. "And you look very much like him . . ."

* * *

I could hardly believe I was meeting someone who had actually known my great-grandfather; previously, the only such being I had known was Wilykit and she was gone. Still, since these Ro-bear Berbils appeared to be either fully fledged robots or cyborgs (part robotic and part organic) it made a certain amount of sense for them to have longer lifespans than most fully organic creatures.

Koris and I spoke to the Berbils at some length about the crisis which had brought me here. I told them about the message my father had received, the unknown individuals who had released Thundranium in the New Thundera subway (something I felt sure was connected in some, as yet unknown, way) and the fragment of statue Wilykit had given me. Koris, meanwhile, spoke of the ambush on his village and how he had escaped with his most priceless treasure.

"Here it is," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small object wrapped in a sack. Slowly, he unwrapped it to reveal a piece of alabaster like the one I had and like the one Icelia had shown me. His appeared to be part of the statue's face, the carved eye staring sightlessly at me as I held it in my hand. It seemed that three beings - a Thunderian, an Ice Lunatac and a Wollo - all owned pieces of the same statue. But what was this statue supposed to represent? And who had the other fragments?

"I have something like that," I said, reaching into my pack and pulling out the fragment Wilykit had given me. As I held it up for the others to examine, a stunned silence fell.


	6. Chapter 6

****

Chapter Six

After what felt like hours, Ro-bear Bill broke the silence. "That is part of the Statue of Omens," he said in his gentle robotic voice. "The one thing that can keep Mumm-Ra imprisoned for eternity."

"Then why was it broken up?" I demanded. I looked back down at the piece I held, recalling as I did so the moment Wilykit gave it to me. If it was as important as everyone seemed to think, surely the Thundercats should have done everything in their power to see that it remained intact. Instead, it had been broken into pieces and scattered among various races.

"When the Statue was made," Ro-bear Bill told me, "the Thundercats soon realised it held tremendous power, power too great for one individual to handle. So they divided it into fragments and entrusted each of their allied races with a piece." With that, he turned and led us towards a hut in the middle of the village, a hut which looked like any other, apart from the fact that two Berbils were standing guard outside.

"Stop!" one of the guards said as we approached. "No-one but a Berbil may enter!"

But Ro-bear Bill held up his hand. "It's OK, Ro-bear Burke and Bo-bear Bud; these are friends. This is Koris, a Wollo, and Storm of the Thundercats." As he spoke, I studied the two Berbil guards closely, noting as I did so that both of them looked completely identical. Then again, most of these Berbils looked the same as each other, robotic bears with tufts of brown fur. There were exceptions to this general rule - Ro-bear Bill's fur was a darker brown than that of most of the others - but it made me wonder how the Berbils were able to tell each other apart.

Anyway, the guards (Ro-bear Burke and Ro-bear Bud) studied me just as closely. Then, the one on the left spoke. "A Thundercat? From the line of Lord Lion-O?"

I nodded; clearly my great-grandfather's reputation had preceded me to Third Earth. "What's in there?" I added, trying to see round the two Berbils. I was curious; clearly, whatever was in that hut had to be pretty important.

"You are about to find out," replied Ro-bear Bill, waving to Ro-bear Burke and Ro-bear Bud to indicate that they could stand down.

* * *

As we entered the hut, I had to duck my head as we passed through the low doorway, although that wasn't a problem for Ro-bear Bill and Koris. However, once I was inside, I found that I could just about stand up straight, albeit with my head almost touching the ceiling. Curious, I looked round the single room, which was empty apart from a wooden table, on which rested a piece of white marble. I did not need to examine it closely to know that it was part of this statue everyone was talking about.

"This is the piece entrusted to the Berbils," Ro-bear Bill explained. "Now, see what happens when the pieces come into contact . . ." He nodded to Koris, who handed over his piece. Taking the proffered fragment, Ro-bear Bill held it against the piece on the table, so that they were touching each other. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen, but I then noticed that both pieces were glowing with an intense light. Seconds later, the image of a cat's head against a red circular background was projected onto the wall - the Thundercat insignia.

Handing Koris's piece back to him, Ro-bear Bill continued his explanation. A member of each race allied with the Thundercats had, I learned, been chosen as a Guardian, with the task of protecting their piece of the Statue of Omens in case a time came when the Statue had to be reassembled. Ro-bear Bill was the Guardian for the Berbils, while the one chosen from among the Wollos was a young female named Dari. From the Warrior Maidens, Nayda (the younger sister of their then Queen) had been chosen . . . But it's a bit tedious to list all the Guardians, so I won't attempt to do so. However, one thing was bothering me. If the Guardians were all supposed to be from races allied with the Thundercats, how had one of the pieces fallen into the hands of an Ice Lunatac? I put that question to Ro-bear Bill, who responded with a shrug.

"I don't know," he told us. "But you must join your fellow Thundercats. Come - I shall escort you to Cats' Lair." With that, he ushered Koris and me out of the hut.

"Cats' Lair?" I echoed, recalling that that was what Koris and I had been looking for when we came across the Berbil Village.

Ro-bear Bill nodded. "Come. It isn't far."

* * *

Escorted by Ro-bear Bill and two other Berbils, it did not take us long to reach Cats' Lair. The large fortress, of a similar (but distinct) design to the Cats' Lair on New Thundera, was built into a cliff and, from the looks of things, could only be accessed via a mechanical drawbridge across the moat. A drawbridge which was currently retracted . . .

"Looks like no-one's home," observed one of the Berbils escorting us. I did not know his name, but, based on what I'd seen of the Berbils so far, I guessed he was called Ro-bear, followed by a name beginning with a B.

"No," I said. "I think they just don't know we're here. I'll try to attract their attention." With that, I cupped my hands round my mouth and shouted at the top of my voice: "Hey! Everyone! I'm out here! Storm - and a Wollo and three Berbils! Thundercats ho!" A pause followed, making me wonder for a moment if my shouts had been heard by anyone inside the fortress. But, then, a narrow bridge extended across the moat and two female figures appeared at the entrance, Lynxari and someone I had never met before. The latter was a raven-haired human, dressed in a short fawn-coloured tunic and leather sandals, a strong air of authority about her person.

Anyway, she was the first to speak. "Is this the boy you spoke of?" she asked, addressing Lynxari.

Lynxari nodded. "Yes. Queen Tia, this is Storm, future Lord of the Thundercats. Storm, this is Tia, Queen of the Warrior Maidens - or what's left of them," she added, a tone of helpless anger in her voice. At that moment, I recalled what Fangelo had said about the Treetop Kingdom being attacked and the only Warrior Maidens who escaped being the ones who were patrolling with Tia at the time. I wanted to say something to the young Queen standing beside Lynxari, but I wasn't sure what.

But, as it turned out, I did not have time to think about that before Lynxari spoke again. "You'd better come inside. Them as well." She pointed in the direction of Koris and the Berbils. "Third Earth is no longer safe. Already, there is talk - rumour - of a Cult of Mumm-Ra."

The last four words forced me to suppress an involuntary shudder. A Cult of Mumm-Ra? Were there actually beings so consumed by evil that they actually regarded Mumm-Ra as a deity? Were they the ones responsible for all the things that had been happening lately? Or was this the result of panic and hysteria brought about by the attacks on Third Earth? Either way, I decided it was safer not to take chances and followed Tia and Lynxari inside, with Koris and the Berbils following in my wake.

* * *

Within moments, I was in what I assumed was the Council Chamber for this Cats' Lair, seated at a round table with the Thundercat insignia painted on the top. The other Thundercats (my parents, Lynxari, Ocelotra, Pumar and Fangelo) who had come to Third Earth were also here, as were several young women dressed in a similar style to Queen Tia. These had to be the Warrior Maidens and I couldn't help but notice how attractive and nubile each of them was . . . I blushed and forced myself to concentrate on the meeting that was currently going on.

"Queen Tia," Ocelotra was saying, "you say two Lunatacs came to your village and demanded the return of something?"

"Yes," Tia replied. "A . . ."

"Fragment of the Statue of Omens!" I blurted out, before I could stop myself. I knew it was bad manners to speak out of turn, but I couldn't help myself; this was the first meeting I had attended where I felt I might have useful information to impart.

"Storm," my father said warningly, giving me a stern frown, "you'll have your chance to speak when Tia is through."

But Tia's only response was to laugh. "That's all right, Lord Feleo. He only said what I was going to say anyway. Yes, a fragment of that very Statue was entrusted to us many years ago and we have protected it ever since, until . . ."

"Until?" prompted Lynxari, when Tia did not continue speaking. Indeed, the beautiful Warrior Queen seemed temporarily unable to speak, her eyes downcast as if she was trying to hide tears.

" . . . until our village was attacked," Tia continued, regaining her composure. "We . . ." She gestured towards the other Warrior Maidens in the room. " . . . returned to find our Treetop Kingdom ablaze. We fought the flames as best we could, but we couldn't save our home . . ." She paused again.

"And the rest of your people?" asked Ocelotra.

"We found no sign of them."

"Dead?" It was Fangelo who spoke this time. The Sabretooth Thundercat had a hard edge to his voice, as if to say he would avenge the death of the Warrior Maidens even at the cost of his own life.

"That or prisoners - I don't know. But, when I searched the remains of my hut, I found something which disturbed me even more. The fragment of the Statue, which I had guarded for nearly ten years, was gone."

"Gone?" echoed Lynxari. "Where?"

"I don't know, but I suspect it must be in the hands of the Mutants or Lunatacs by now. That's why we need help. We need to make sure no more fragments of the Statue fall into enemy hands. If that happens . . ."

"They'll have the means to free Mumm-Ra," I filled in, forgetting what my father had said about waiting my turn to speak. "But I thought the Statue was supposed to stop that from happening."

"It is," Tia replied flatly. "But, if any of the pieces are destroyed, the magic contained in the Statue will perish also."

* * *

The meeting went on for a while after that, eventually ending with the decision that all the fragments that were still in the hands of Thundercat allies must be brought to Cats' Lair and under Thundercat protection. "We currently have two of the pieces," my father explained, gesturing in the direction of Koris and me. "And Ro-bear Bill tells me the piece entrusted to the Berbils is still in their village. However, we believe at least two may already be in enemy hands - we cannot afford to lose any more."

"That's all very well, Feleo," Ocelotra cut in. "But how are we going to find them all?"

"By reaching our allies before the Mutants and Lunatacs do," my father replied. "And, talking of Lunatacs, there's something which concerns me. Storm, you say an Ice Lunatac contacted the Thundershuttle on the way here? A female who had a fragment of the Statue?"

"Yes," I said, before telling him of my encounter with Icelia. "She told me something about a . . . Doomsday Missile destroying the Ice Moon," I explained. "But I don't know if she was telling the truth or not; she might have been leading me into a trap."

Hearing this, my father looked at me grimly, his brow furrowed. "I'm afraid, Storm, you may be right. It does seem rather too convenient that she contacted you when she did. And that she had one of the fragments - she may have been using it to gain your trust."

"Maybe," said Ocelotra, "but that doesn't explain how she got hold of it in the first place."

My father crossed the room and rested his hand on the Ocelot woman's shoulder. "That," he said, looking her full in the face, "is what we aim to find out."

* * *

When the meeting was over, I (driven by an intense feeling of curiousity) decided to explore the corridors of this Cats' Lair. This building, this mighty fortress, had been deserted since before I was born, but it was so solidly constructed and had such a sophisticated security system that it had remained undisturbed in all that time. It felt almost as if it had been waiting, waiting for the day when the Thundercats would return to Third Earth. And, as I explored, I could almost sense the echoes of those who had occupied this building more than eighty years ago, my great-grandfather and the Thundercats who had served under him, Thundercats of whom, apart from Wilykit, I had no direct memory. All of them dead and gone now . . .

My meanderings eventually led me to what appeared to be a laboratory. This had to be where Panthro worked on his machines; I remember Wilykit telling me about him. I thought about Leopardo, our current technician, and how much he and Panthro would have had to discuss. It was too bad they would never meet.

In the meantime, though, we had a crisis to deal with. This "Cult of Mumm-Ra", assuming it was more than just rumour, could be very dangerous. I was willing to bet that Lizarius, the Reptilian who had disrupted Wilykit's funeral, was part of it, as was whoever had released Thundranium in New Thundera's subway. As Thundranium (with very rare exceptions) weakens Thunderians, the culprit or culprits had to be from some other race, one which would be unaffected by the Thundranium . . .

"Storm?"

I looked round. My mother was standing in the doorway. "Storm," she said again, "I came to tell you we'll be staying here for a while. The Third Earthlings need our help and, as Thundercats, we are pledged to offer it . . ." She paused, then went on. "Fangelo and Ocelotra have gone to secure the Tower of Omens which keeps watch over Dark Side. And Tia and the Warrior Maidens are patrolling the Berbil Village."

"In case someone tries to take the Berbils' piece of the Statue?" I asked.

"Which is inevitable. And the Berbils don't fight, so they'd be too easily overwhelmed."

"But the Warrior Maidens do fight," I added. Not that it had done them much good when their Treetop Kingdom was razed . . .

* * *

Since we were going to be staying here for a while, my father allocated rooms to each of us. That night, I lay awake, thinking about the events of the last few days, but also about my own family. From what I had gathered over the last few years, I knew I was descended from an illustrious line of Lion Thunderians, one of whom, Leonus, had been one of the founding Thundercats and the very first Thundercat Lord. But my distant ancestors held little interest for me.

On the other hand, my more immediate ancestors included Lord Lion-O, the Thundercat who had vanquished Mumm-Ra more than eighty years ago. A few years after that, he had married a young Lion Thunderian named Nessia, who, as the Consort of a Thundercat Lord, automatically acquired Thundercat status on her marriage. Their union produced a daughter, Andromeda, and a son, named Leonus after the first Lord of the Thundercats. Leonus's son (Feleo) was, of course, my father. In my mind, I saw them standing shoulder to shoulder, all with thick red hair and all holding the Sword of Omens, the same Sword I would one day inherit . . .

Suddenly, I was jolted out of my thoughts by the sound of a klaxon blaring.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

As the klaxon continued to blare, the sound piercing through me, I hurried into the corridor to see what had caused the alarm. From somewhere in the distance, I could hear the sounds of battle, shouting and cursing intermingled with the clashing of weapons. Well, I certainly wasn't going to miss this! If the Thundercats were involved in a fight, I meant to get in on the action.

"Lynxari! Look out!" I heard my mother shout from further down the corridor. There followed the sound of a throwing dagger zipping through the air, then a pained grunt as the dagger found its target. I hurried in the direction of the sound, arriving to find my mother and Lynxari standing before a fallen Jackal Mutant. The latter was a scrawny dog-like creature dressed in a brown loincloth. For some reason, Mutants only ever seemed to wear loincloths or tunics; some Thunderians said it was because they were "less civilised" than us.

Anyway, it looked as though this particular Mutant was out for the count. "Thanks, Amber," Lynxari was saying. I quickly pieced together what could have happened - the Jackal must have caught Lynxari by surprise, prompting my mother to use the throwing dagger she used for weaponry to bring him down. But how had he got into Cats' Lair? And were there any other Mutants around?

"What's going on?" I asked, drawing level with the two females.

They turned at the sound of my voice. "Storm, what are you doing here?" my mother asked. She walked over to retrieve her dagger, a five-inch steel blade with a large sapphire embedded in the hilt, from where it had fallen near the prone Jackal. "Anyway, we're under attack and you'd better get back to your room."

"No way!" I retorted, readying my chakram as I spoke. "I want to get in on the action!" It would, after all, be my duty as Lord of the Thundercats to fight in defence of the Code of Thundera and I was anxious to get some first hand experience of battle. Weapons training with Pumar and listening to tales of past battles was all very well, but there was no substitute for actually being involved in armed combat.

"Storm, don't argue," my mother told me firmly. "No matter how brave you may feel, you're still a child. And not only that, you're too important to the Thundercats for us to risk in . . ."

She was cut off abruptly as the Jackal on the floor suddenly leapt to his feet, having evidently been shamming injury, and grabbed Lynxari before she could resist, gripping her in a stranglehold. A surge of adrenalin shot through me and, the next thing I knew, I was charging at the Mutant with all my strength, determined to teach him a lesson. "Let her go!" I shouted, kicking the Jackal in the shins. He yelped and let go of Lynxari, as I made to follow through with my initial attack. Before I could do so, however, more Mutants burst into the room, weapons drawn ready to fight. I immediately recognised the Reptilian who seemed to be in charge - Lizarius, the same Reptilian who had disrupted Wilykit's funeral and demanded the fragment of the Statue of Omens that had been entrusted to me.

* * *

"Ssssso, Jacklon?" Lizarius said, addressing the Jackal Mutant we had been fighting moments before. "We come for the fragment of Ssssssstatue and find you fighting femalessssssss and cubssssssssss!"

"What Statue?" I asked, hoping to stall for time by feigning ignorance of the whole affair. Unfortunately, it did not work.

"Don't try to fool me, Thunderbrat!" Lizarius shot back, brandishing a two-headed axe in my direction. I gulped; those axe heads looked like they could do some serious damage. "The object given to ussssss on New Thundera wasssss not part of the Sssssssssstatue! It was a fake, a Thundercat trick! Now, tell me! Where issssss the real fragment?!" His voice dropped to a low hiss, somehow far more menacing than it would have been had he been shouting.

"I'll never tell you, Scaleface!" I retorted before I could stop myself. Seconds later, I paid dearly for my rashness as a nearby Monkey Mutant, acting at a signal from Lizarius, pushed me to the floor and held me there at spearpoint. My mother and Lynxari moved to help, only to be forced back by several of the other Mutants.

"But you will, my inssssssolent young friend," Lizarius told me. "Becaussssssssse we already have the ressssssssst of your people - and they will die unlesssssssss you tell usssssss what we want to know!"

I could hardly believe the demands of this Mutant. If I told him where I had hidden the fragment of Statue, the Cult of Mumm-Ra would be one step closer to completing their evil mission. But, if I kept quiet, the other Thundercats who had come to Third Earth would be slain - and I could not let that happen. Even though there were still Thundercats on New Thundera, I could not allow any of my people to be sacrificed. For the first time in my life, I began to understand what the Code of Thundera meant by "Justice, Truth, Honour and Loyalty"; at the same time, I gained a sense of the burden this would one day place on my shoulders.

"Sssssssso?" Lizarius said when I showed no sign of replying. "You prefer to remain sssssssilent? Very well, you have twenty-four hoursssssssss to make up your mind." He nodded to the rest of the Mutants. "Take them back to Cassssssstle Plundarr and let them cool their heelssssss in the dungeon!"

* * *

And so I presently found myself being roughly flung into a dank underground cell built into the foundations of Castle Plundarr. Castle Plundarr was, I recalled from what Wilykit had told me, the stronghold the Mutants had built on Third Earth. No, scratch that - it was the fortress they had _forced_ a primitive race of creatures called Brutemen to build and I suspect these Brutemen would have been kept on as household slaves had my great-grandfather and the rest of the Thundercats not freed them. Anyway, this is where the Mutants had taken me, a large fortress built in the shape of a giant stone gargoyle, surrounded by a moat inhabited by all kinds of unspeakable creatures. I had not been allowed to look at my surroundings as I was dragged down to the dungeons, but from the few glimpses I managed, I could tell this place hadn't been inhabited in years.

Before I could pick myself up off the floor, the cell door was slammed shut. Then came the cackling laugh of the Jackal Mutant who had escorted me, followed by the sound of a door being bolted. I took stock of my surroundings, not an easy task as there was no source of light in the cell and the only illumination came from the barred grille set high on the door. Maybe, if the bars could be worked loose, that grille could provide me with a means of escape . . .

But, before I could attack the bars, I heard a voice calling to me from the next cell. "Don't waste time trying to break the bars - they're fixed solid." From the sound of the voice, I gathered that the speaker was an older male, but I could not tell what race he was.

Nevertheless, I reluctantly heeded his advice and decided instead to try and find out how he was able to communicate with me. It did not take me long to find out; some stones in the wall dividing the two cells had come loose, leaving a hole large enough to serve as a speaking hole, but not large enough to crawl through. I knelt down next to this hole and called through it in a loud whisper. "Who are you?"

"Lannal," came the reply. "I'm the leader of the Wollos - or rather I was until the Mutants and Lunatacs captured us. All except my son, Koris . . ."

"Koris?" I echoed, recalling the young Wollo I had met in the forest.

"You know my son? Is he all right?" Lannal's tone carried an air of desperation, of being unable to relax until he was assured that all was well. I did not know what to say to him, but I did my best, telling him as much as I knew.

"Yes," I said. "We met in the forest and travelled together to Cats' Lair . . ."

"Cats' Lair?" repeated Lannal. "So you're a Thundercat?"

I nodded, then, remembering that he couldn't see me, replied out loud. "Yes. My name's Storm and . . ."

I was cut off abruptly by the sound of the cell door being unlocked. Seconds later, Lizarius strode into the cell looking absolutely full of himself. Flanking him were Jacklon (the Jackal Mutant my mother, Lynxari and I had tangled with back at Cats' Lair) and a female humanoid with light purple skin and long grey hair. Despite the colour of her hair, she looked young, but that wasn't all. There was a distinctive crescent mark on her forehead, as well as two small horns; she was a Lunatac.

* * *

"Ssssssso," Lizarius said imperiously. "How are you liking your new quartersssssss, Thunderbrat?" I did not much care for his attitude; he was treating me like dirt for no reason other than the fact I happened to be a Thundercat. Well, there was no way I was going to let him get away with it. I was a future Thundercat Lord, after all, and I was not about to let this overgrown lizard get away with addressing me in this manner.

"Don't call me "Thunderbrat" - my name's Storm!" I shot back, wishing I still had my chakram. But it had been confiscated when I was captured and was probably in the Mutants' armoury by now - if they hadn't melted it down for the metal. "And where are the other Thundercats?!"

"Ssssafe enough - for now!" Lizarius hissed at me. "But remember you have twenty-four hourssssss to reveal where the Ssssssstatue fragment isss or . . ." He did not complete his sentence, choosing instead to pretend to cut his own throat. Then, he and his two cohorts left, leaving me to slump down in despair. There was no way I could ever tell the Cult of Mumm-Ra what they wanted to know, but, if I didn't, my fellow Thundercats would be slain. If only I had never been given that wretched fragment, I would not be in this mess now.

Just then, the sound of voices caught my attention: Lizarius and a female voice I had never heard before. "I don't see why we have to wait," the latter was saying. "If you left it to me, I'd have the answer from that brat before you could say "Moons of Plundarr"."

"Your powersssss of Perssssuasssion are legendary, Grimla," replied Lizarius. "But, if the boy were to resssissst, it may kill him - and we need him alive."

"Alive?!" scoffed the female called Grimla. "What's one Thundercat brat more or less? In case you've forgotten, Lizarius, I am leader of the Psy Lunatacs." I gasped when I heard this. The Psy Clan of Lunatacs possessed incredible mental powers and it was said that many of them could hypotise the weak-willed into doing their bidding with very little effort. Wilykit had spoken of a Psy Lunatac called Lurro (or something like that) who had these hypnotic powers and, from what I had just overheard, it seemed Grimla had them too.

"You may be leader of your people, but I, Lizariussssss, am High Priessssst of the Cult of Mumm-Ra!" Lizarius shot back. "You would do well to remember it, unlessssss you want to end your daysssss assss the next Offering!"

* * *

They moved out of earshot at that point, leaving me to struggle with what I had just overheard. I noticed that Jacklon had remained silent throughout the exchange between Lizarius and Grimla - in fact, I hadn't heard speak at Cats' Lair either. And then there was that word Lizarius had used, Offering; I did not know what that meant, but I suspected it was something too terrible to contemplate. I moved away from the door and made my way over to the hole in the wall dividing my cell from Lannal's.

"Lannal!" I called through the hole, speaking in a loud whisper. "Did you hear all that?"

"Yes, Storm. I fear all the Mutants and Lunatacs here belong to the Cult of Mumm-Ra. They believe it is their duty to . . ."

". . . set Mumm-Ra free," I concluded, recalling what had been discussed at the meeting back at Cats' Lair. That seemed a lifetime ago now, as did everything that had happened to me on New Thundera. For the first time since I had been sent on this mission, I wondered if I would ever return there, if I would ever see Hunter again. And I suspected that Ocelotra (who I hoped was still safe in the Tower of Omens with Fangelo) felt the same; he was her son after all. One thing was certain, however; if I wanted to see home again, I would have to escape from this cell and find my fellow Thundercats. Next, we would have to put a stop to the Cult of Mumm-Ra and their insane plans to resurrect Mumm-Ra - before it was too late. I didn't know why, but I had an uneasy feeling that time was very short, that the Cult would make their move any day now. That must be why all these incidents had been happening; the Cult were preparing for the day when they could bring Mumm-Ra back and need to destroy both the Book and the Statue of Omens to ensure that he could not be imprisoned again.

The Book, I knew from what Wilykit had told me, could only be destroyed by really powerful magic, magic beyond the scope of most beings. But I wouldn't it past the Cult to know of someone, a dark wizard or something along those lines, who did know the magic required. If so, it was vital that the Statue was reassembled and for that we needed all the fragments. Somehow, I would have to escape.

I must have said those last few words out loud without meaning to, because the next thing I heard was Lannal telling me I must not even consider it. "Even if you could get out of your cell, there are guards everywhere," he told me. "And, if you were caught, they would make an Offering of you!"

"An Offering?" I echoed, recalling how Lizarius had said the same word to Grimla.

"A blood sacrifice - that is the fate that awaits those captured by the Cult of Mumm-Ra. They might keep you alive for a while if they think you might be useful, but in the end . . ."

He could not continue and I was rendered temporarily speechless myself. Sacrifice, ritual slaughter, such was the fate that awaited my fellow Thundercats. If I refused to reveal where the fragment of Statue Wilykit had given me was hidden, the Cult was going to slay them in a barbaric ritual. Had I been sure that refusing to talk might encourage Lizarius to keep my comrades alive a while longer, I would have taken that option. But, somehow, I knew Lizarius had meant exactly what he had said.

* * *

I retreated from the hole in the wall and sat down on the floor, hugging my knees. I was trapped, imprisoned in a dank cell with little hope of salvation, and none of the Thundercats who still on New Thundera knew the situation. I thought about the Sword of Omens - if I had it, I would be able to use it to get out here, free my fellow prisoners and defeat the Cult of Mumm-Ra. But I didn't and, I knew with a grim certainty, neither did my father. It must have been confiscated when he was captured so that he couldn't use it.

For the first time in my life, I began to understand what was meant by the word "despair".


	8. Chapter 8

****

Chapter Eight

Locked in that cell, with no means of measuring the passage of time, I soon had no idea if it was night or day in the outside world. Sometimes, a Mutant or Lunatac came to deliver a small amount of food, but they never stayed long and they never spoke in my presence except to mutter rude oaths about Thunderians. Nevertheless, these brief visits indicated one thing; I was not being left to rot, so the Cult of Mumm-Ra clearly wanted me alive for some reason. But what?

I tried asking Lannal, but he didn't appear to know either, though he hinted darkly that we were being saved as Offerings. And he had already told me what _that_ meant, that we were going to be killed in some barbaric ritual. The thought made me feel physically sick; if only there was a way to get out of here, my fellow Thundercats and I could put an end to the Cult of Mumm-Ra and their evil plans. But I had no way of knowing where they were being held and, even if I had that information, there was still the matter of getting out of my cell.

To take my mind off my current situation, I thought of my childhood on New Thundera, of playing with Hunter, of listening to Wilykit's stories. In addition to telling us about the Thundercats' recent history, she knew a number of stories dating back to the days before Old Thundera was destroyed, stories so old that their precise origins had, in many cases, been lost. However, ten such stories had been compiled by a mixed-breed Thunderian woman named Felindra and published under the title _Felindra's Fables_. I had heard them all from Wilykit - _The Foolish Son, The Tiger Maiden And The Sapphire Brooch_ and all the rest. But my favourite had always been _The Lion's Pride_, the story of a young Lion Thunderian who thinks he is "better than everyone" - until he is taught a painful lesson.

Anyway, I went through all those stories in my head as I sat in my cell, even though I had long since outgrown them. It was the only way I could avoid thinking about a situation I could do little (if anything) to change. Whatever the Mutants and Lunatacs of the Cult of Mumm-Ra were planning, I knew I would find out sooner or later, not that I was looking forward to it. But, cut off from my fellow Thundercats, I had no choice but to wait, wait for my captors to make their next move . . .

* * *

I was halfway through telling _The Lion's Pride_ to myself when there was a noise outside my cell: the jangling of keys, followed by the clunk of a door being unlocked. Light flooded in from the passageway, prompting me to close my eyes against the glare; I had grown accustomed to the dimly lit cell and the light from outside hurt my eyes. Then, I heard voices.

"Take him!" The voice belonged to a Reptilian Mutant, but it wasn't Lizarius. In fact, while it retained the harsh, sibilant quality, the pitch was higher, leading me to suspect that this Reptilian might be female. I slowly opened my eyes to look; there she was, a tall lizard-like creature with green scales, dressed in a purple tunic. Gold bangles decorated her arms and she wore a necklace of teeth round her neck. But I scarcely had time to register her appearance before I was grabbed by two Jackals (one of whom I recognised as the one called Jacklon) and my hands were tied behind my back.

As I was dragged out into the corridor, the female Reptilian taking the lead, while the two Jackals walked on either side of me, I heard a voice call out from nearby. "Don't tell 'em anything, boy!" I recognised that voice instantly; it was Lannal and he sounded very earnest. I had never seen him face-to-face, having only conversed with him through a hole in the walls dividing our cells, but I had no doubt what he meant.

"We'll have to ssssee about sssssilencing that old fool!" the female Reptilian hissed, as I was marched up the corridor and out of the dungeons.

"All in good time, Karsa," said the nameless Jackal. (I did not know why the one named Jacklon never spoke. Was it because he was unable to? Or had he taken some sort of vow of silence?) "First, we must bring this Thunderbrat to Lizarius."

"Lizariusssss issss a fool!" snapped Karsa, as I now knew the female Reptilian to be called. "If he'd left it to ussssss . . ."

She never got to finish her sentence for, at that very moment, Grimla appeared on the scene, glaring at the three Mutants. "May I remind you, Karsa, that Lizarius is our High Priest. And you know what the penalty is for insulting him." She nodded pointedly in Jacklon's direction at this point. Jacklon opened his mouth and pointed inside it. Despite myself, I couldn't resist the urge to look inside; what I saw was a set of yellowing fangs - and a gap where a tongue should have been. So that was why he didn't speak; he must have insulted Lizarius at some point and had his tongue cut out as punishment.

* * *

I soon found myself in what appeared to be a throne room. Lizarius was seated upon a large chair, as two Mutants (a Rat and a Vulture) hovered around him, ready to tend to his every need. A rough prod from Karsa forced me to my knees, a position from which I could easily see the Reptilian's large, scaly feet. He wore no footwear, but, judging by how thick his skin looked, he didn't need to anyway.

"Ssssso, Sssssstorm of Thundera," Lizarius said, beginning without preliminaries, "have you had time to conssssssssider your ansssswer yet?"

"Yes, I have!" I replied bravely, guessing what his question was.

"And what issss your ansssssswer?"

"No!" Defiantly, I looked up, deliberately making eye contact with my captor, determined to show him that I wasn't afraid. Pumar had once told me that all bullies are pitiful cowards, who gain a sense of power from intimidating those who can't fight back. Well, I wasn't going to let some overgrown lizard push me around.

"And what do you mean by that?!" Lizarius demanded, as the two Jackals who had escorted me forced me to bow my head once more.

"What I said," I replied, keeping the same defiant tone in my voice. "You'll never get your scaly claws on the Statue fragment! I'll never reveal its whereabouts! Never!"

At this, Lizarius got to his feet and motioned the two Jackals to pull me up off the floor. As I was dragged to my feet, I was relieved not to have to kneel on that hard floor a second longer. But I was also apprehensive, knowing I had just crossed someone who would not stand opposition from anyone, least of all a young boy from a race his kind had once waged war against. "Sssssso?" Lizarius said. "The brat choossssesssss to defy usssss?! Very well," he said to me, "you were warned what would happen if you refusssssed to ssssspeak." He turned to the Jackals. "Take him outssssssside - I will meet you there."

* * *

Heart pounding, I was led out of Castle Plundarr and taken to what appeared to be a temple, the temple where the Cult of Mumm-Ra evidently worshipped. It was certainly the most evil-looking place I had ever entered, even worse than the Castle where I had recently been imprisoned. There was only one room and it was dominated by a great stone altar, a design featuring a two-headed snake on a circular background carved on the front. And kneeling before this altar, their hands tied behind their backs like mine, were my fellow Thundercats: my parents, Lynxari and Pumar. There was no sign of Ocelotra or Fangelo, but my relief was tempered by the anticipation of what the Cult of Mumm-Ra were about to do.

"Storm!" my mother cried out the second she saw me. But she was silenced by a rough prod from the Infra-sight Lunatac guarding her and the others.

"Silence, Cat!" he warned. "You were not given leave to speak!" Like all Infra-sight Lunatacs, this one had white skin and large red eyes with white pupils; those eyes gave me the creeps, appearing to bore into me as they did, albeit not in the same way a psychic's eyes might do so. Rather, it was as if there was no hiding from those eyes. For that is the special talent of the Infra-sight Lunatacs, the ability to physically see that which is invisible to other races.

Just then, I was distracted out of my thoughts by the crash of a gong from somewhere nearby. And, seconds later, Lizarius marched into the temple, dressed in the full regalia of a High Priest. He had swapped his usual tattered loin cloth for a dark blue wraparound skirt, a gold belt around the waist and a scarlet cape over his powerful shoulders; I could see his tail poking out from the cape's hem and would have laughed at the sight had the situation not been so dire. The cape was fastened by a large buckle bearing the two-headed snake design which decorated the altar, the design being repeated on the Reptilian's ornate headdress.

At the sight of him, all the Mutants and Lunatacs in the temple dropped to their knees. I thought about taking my chance to escape, but Jacklon put an end to that idea by making that gesture where you pretend to cut your own throat. I decided it wasn't worth the risk. Besides, how could I leave four of my fellow Thundercats, including my own parents, to the fate that surely awaited them?

Lizarius positioned himself directly in front of me, standing so close that I could actually smell his breath. And, when I say I could smell his breath, I really mean it! Hadn't they ever heard of breath mints on Plundarr? But I digress. It turned out that Lizarius had something to say to me.

"Sssssso, Thunderbrat," he said. "I'll give you one lassst chance to tell me where the fragment isssss or . . ."

"The answer is still "no"!" I shot back. "And I told you not to call me "Thunderbrat"!"

"In that cassse," Lizarius told me, "what happensssssss next is your doing!"

* * *

At a silent signal from Lizarius, two Rat Mutants seized hold of Lynxari and dragged her before their High Priest. She cried out as one of the Rats yanked on her long hair, forcing her head back and exposing her throat. Lizarius walked towards her, a silver knife in his hand; I did not need anyone to tell me what he planned to do.

"Sssssee, boy?" Lizarius said, pressing the knife against Lynxari's throat. "All I have to do isssss presssss a little harder and she diesssss! And she won't be the lassssssst! All thesssse prissssssonerssssss . . ." He gestured towards my parents and Pumar. " . . . will die unlessssss you co-operate!"

"No! Please!" my mother cried out from where she was being forced to watch helplessly as Lizarius threatened Lynxari. "She's a young mother! My son is nearly a man! If you want to kill one of us, kill me!" The only reply she got was another rough prod from the Infra-sight Lunatac.

"Even if was willing to tell you what you want to know," I said flatly, not trusting Lizarius for one second, "what's to stop you killing all of us anyway?" I was trying to stall for time, to distract Lizarius with questions which, if nothing else, might at least keep us all alive a little longer. But how much longer? Not for the first time, I wondered if I would ever see New Thundera again.

Or was I destined to end my days as an Offering made by the Cult of Mumm-Ra? If so, I wished I could have seen at least a few more years of life, at least enough for me to ensure that my family's noble line continued for another generation. But, as things stood right now, it looked as though my family would die out in this evil temple. For, though Lion-O's union with Nessia had produced two children, his daughter, Andromeda, had neither married nor produced any offspring.

In any case, I was not going to co-operate with Lizarius. I was not going to tell him what he wanted to know; it was vital that no more fragments of the Statue fell into the hands of the Cult of Mumm-Ra. But, as I watched the Reptilian pressing the knife against Lynxari's throat, my mind flashed back to the moment he had threatened to kill Lata, Sita, Sylvia and Tigon unless Leopardo gave up the fragment. Leopardo had said he could not sacrifice children, even if doing so kept Mumm-Ra at bay, and, young as I was, I knew I was now faced with a similar dilemma. If I refused to talk, my parents, Lynxari and Pumar were doomed; if I did talk, the Cult of Mumm-Ra would be one step closer to their goal and an evil unknown for more than eighty years would be unleashed once more. Either way, it looked as though I was the loser.

* * *

Just then, however, there was a sudden explosion from overhead and the scene was quickly enveloped in thick smoke. I could not see what was happening, but I could hear the Mutants and Lunatacs coughing and cursing audibly, using language that does not bear repeating. But let's just say that none of it was the sort of stuff one says in polite company, being the sort of language usually confined to a barracks.

"Quickly! Run for it before the smoke clears!"

The voice which shouted this from overhead was that of an adult male. I could not see the speaker through the smoke so I could not identify his race. But, as I held my shirt over my mouth and nose to avoid inhaling any of the smoke, I couldn't help but trust him; he had the sort of voice that you instinctively feel belongs to someone who holds a position of authority but would never do anything to abuse it. I had no idea who this man was or how he had managed to appear on the scene just when all seemed lost, but I knew we had to take this chance and escape. "Come on!" I called to my parents, Lynxari and Pumar, running off in the direction of the voice.

As we emerged from the smoke, Lynxari coughing as she did so, we saw our rescuer for the first time. He was a fair-haired human in his mid-thirties, who wore a black uniform and sat astride a hoverbike, currently stationary in mid-air. But, as the five of us drew level with him, he brought the bike in for a landing, then climbed off with the casual air of one who has had years of practice. He pulled something out of his pocket and held it up for us all to see; this object was roughly the size of a wallet and appeared to be a highly sophisticated identity card, complete with a holographic image of its holder.

"Officer Kayon, Galactic Police," he told us, speaking crisply and precisely. "And you would appear to be the Thundercats." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, we are," my father replied. "At least five of them. I'm Lord Feleo. This is my wife, Lady Amber." He gestured towards my mother. "My son and heir, Storm," he added, pointing to me. "And the others are Pumar and Lynxari." He indicated the Puma and the Lynx as he said their respective names.

"Where are the rest of you?" Kayon asked next.

"Most of us are back on New Thundera," replied my father. "But two others came to Third Earth with us . . ."

"Yes, Ocelotra and Fangelo," concluded Kayon. "They contacted us from the Tower of Omens when you failed to report in. I was immediately dispatched to Cats' Lair, but I arrived too late to stop all of you from being captured. And, now, we have to get out of here," he added, casting around for any sign of pursuit.

* * *

Though the others followed Kayon without hesitation, I hung back. "Wait!" I said, causing everyone to look in my direction. "We can't leave yet - the Cult still have prisoners in Castle Plundarr!" I added, thinking of Lannal as I spoke. "We can't abandon them!"

"I don't intend to," Kayon told me. "But we can't do anything by ourselves; there are only six of us against the whole Cult. Rushing in headlong wouldn't do anyone any good, least of all the prisoners you spoke of. But, if we can organise a proper attack force . . ."

" . . . we might have a chance," I said, finishing Kayon's sentence for him. "But what do we do in the meantime?"

"Come with me to the Refuge," replied Kayon. "Your friends, Fangelo and Ocelotra, are already there."

I had no idea what this Refuge was - or where it was - but I knew we had to do as Kayon said if we wanted to get clear of this place. For, even as we stood here, the Cult of Mumm-Ra were certain to be planning our recapture. And my experience of the Cult told me that they would not rest until they had what they wanted, until I disclosed the whereabouts of the Statue fragment Wilykit had given me.

"Well, they won't get it!" I vowed, as I hurried after the others.


	9. Chapter 9

****

Chapter Nine

The Refuge, as Kayon called it, proved to be a network of underground tunnels and caves, the entrance hidden so carefully that the chances of finding it by accident were . . . Well, let's just say there was more chance of me voluntarily joining the Cult of Mumm-Ra. Anyway, when Kayon told us to stop on what seemed to be a perfectly normal patch of ground, with no sign of anything resembling a Refuge, I wondered what he was up to. Was his rescue of myself and my fellow Thundercats just a ruse to gain our trust.

I was about to demand answers, but, before I could do so, Kayon whistled several times. First, he whistled once, paused, then whistled twice, paused again and whistled three times, then another pause, followed by four whistles. After that, he paused again and I expected him to whistle five times. But he didn't. Instead, he motioned us to stand back as a seemingly ordinary boulder began to split in two.

"Come!" Kayon called, once the "boulder" had opened wide enough to allow an adult male Thunderian to walk through it. "The entrance cannot remain open longer than two minutes."

* * *

We hurried through the secret entrance, emerging in a vast underground chamber, lit by glowing orbs. As the "boulder" closed up again, making a sound not unlike that of an automatic door sliding shut, I gazed round at my surroundings. I had not known what to expect from this Refuge, but I had to admit that it was pretty impressive. The chamber we were in was vast, large enough for around two hundred beings the same size as a Thunderian adult to assemble, more if you included smaller races like the Wollos and Bolkins. A raised area served as a stage, on which stood a plain metal table, and corridors branched off in all directions.

I looked at the others who had taken shelter here. Three humans, two men and a woman, stood at the far end of the room; like Kayon, they were all wearing the uniform of the Galactic Police. Queen Tia and her Warrior Maidens were here too, as was the young Wollo called Koris, easily recognisable because he was about half as tall as most of the others here. A dozen or so Brutemen, primitive and bestial, were talking to each other in their crude grunting "language"; seeing them reminded me of a story Wilykit had once told me about how the Mutants had once enslaved a group of these creatures and forced them to build Castle Plundarr. I saw Ro-bear Bill and his Berbils and was relieved to see that these gentle robotic bears had managed to escape when the Cult of Mumm-Ra launched their raid.

But the ones I was most interested in were standing side-by-side near the Warrior Maidens. These were Fangelo and Ocelotra, the two Thundercats who had been manning the Tower of Omens. My fellow Thundercats and I went to join them, as Kayon turned to address the assembled crowd.

"Well, now that we're all present and correct, let us begin," he said, gazing round at the assembled beings. "I'm sure you all know about the threat from the Cult of Mumm-Ra, so I won't repeat any explanations from earlier. But I will say that we have been joined by the people who defeated Mumm-Ra eighty years ago - the Thundercats! And, among their number are the grandson and great-grandson of the mighty Lord Lion-O!"

A cheer echoed through the underground chamber. Clearly, pretty near everyone here knew about my great-grandfather's reputation, even though none of them, with the exception of the Berbils, had any personal memories of him. For everyone else, he was beyond living memory, a part of history, someone who had lived several decades ago.

Anyway, the news that the current team of Thundercats was on Third Earth - well, some of them anyway - seemed to give the Third Earthlings hope. The cheering continued for several minutes, until Kayon had to call for silence before he could address the assembled crowd. "The Thundercats," he said, "have sworn to join with us and fight the threat the Cult of Mumm-Ra poses to the peace that has been built up over the past eighty years. We . . ."

But, at this point, one of the Warrior Maidens interupted him. "But there are many in the Cult and only a few of us! How can we defeat them?" She was young, not much older than me, and seemed to be the youngest of the few Warrior Maidens who had escaped the raid on the Treetop Kingdom.

"By working together, Jaya," Kayon replied. "By formulating a plan and striking back when the time is right."

"And by remembering the Code of Thundera!" I cut in. "Justice, Truth, Honour and Loyalty!" I punched the air as I spoke the words I had been taught as a young child, but had never before uttered with such conviction.

* * *

If I told you everything that was discussed at that meeting, we'd still be here next week. So I'll just say that we agreed to do whatever it took to rid Third Earth of the Cult of Mumm-Ra, preferably before they achieved their aims of setting Mumm-Ra free. And we would also strive to find a way to free the prisoners held at Castle Plundarr.

"What about the Statue of Omens?" I asked at length. "Could that help us?"

"It could," my father replied, "if we had all the pieces."

"We do have some," Ocelotra reminded him from where she sat. "Storm, you managed to hide the piece Wilykit gave you, didn't you?"

I nodded, recalling the day Wilykit had given me that piece of statue, the day she had died. At that point, I had not known what it was and had thought it was just a piece of an old, broken statue. Now, however, I knew it was much more than that, that it could hold the key to stopping the Cult of Mumm-Ra. If only we had all the pieces . . .

"And Koris has the piece entrusted to the Wollos," Ocelotra went on, nodding in the Wollo boy's direction.

"We also managed to save ours," Ro-bear Bill said. He nodded in Tia's direction as he spoke and I guessed the Berbils had had some help from the Warrior Maidens when it came to protecting their fragment of Statue. After all, those robotic bears weren't exactly seasoned fighters . . .

Then, one of the Brutemen grunted and pointed to himself. He made a few gestures and took something out of the sack he carried over his shoulder, holding it up for us all to see. I craned my neck to look; it was definitely a piece of the Statue, the left hand by the look of it. The Bruteman pointed to it, then to himself. I guessed at once what he was trying to say, that he was the one who kept the fragment entrusted to his kind.

"All right, so we have three pieces in our possession," my father said at length. "And Storm hid a fourth back at Cats' Lair. A fifth piece is believed to be in the hands of the Ice Lunatacs, though how they got hold of it is anyone's guess. We already know the Warrior Maidens lost their piece, as, I suspect, did the Bolkins. And . . ."

"What about the other pieces?" the young Warrior Maiden called Jaya cut in. "How many of them are there?"

"I was just getting to that," my father told her. "One was entrusted to the Tuskas, another to the Snowmen of Hook Mountain and a third to the Unicorn Keepers." He turned to Kayon. "Have any of them been raided by the Cult of Mumm-Ra?"

"No," Kayon replied.

"Then we must get the Unicorn Keepers here. The Snowmen and the Tuskas are proud warriors; they should be able to handle most things. But we still need their pieces of the Statue."

* * *

The meeting broke up shortly after this and everyone was left to their own devices. I sat down and thought about everything that had happened lately, wondering just what it was that the Cult of Mumm-Ra had planned. Whatever it was, I could be sure it would be bad news for us, especially my father and me. After all, we were descended from the one who had imprisoned Mumm-Ra in the first place, so, if he ever got free . . . Well, if I was an evil demon (which I wasn't) and someone let me loose, the first thing I would do would be to seek revenge on anyone connected with whoever had imprisoned me.

I thought about the Statue of Omens, the Statue I had been told was virtually the last line of defence against the return of Mumm-Ra. I had never seen it whole, of course, so I had no idea what it was supposed to look like when it was fully assembled. But, from the fragments I'd already seen, I knew it depicted a humanoid being, possibly a Thunderian . . . I paused, thinking about those fragments. Three were here in the Refuge, one was hidden in Cats' Lair (at least I hoped it still was), three more were still in the hands of the races they had been entrusted to, two had already been lost and one had fallen into the hands of the Ice Lunatacs. I still did not know what Icelia's motives were or how she came to have a piece of the Statue, but, if we ever met again, I was going to be on my guard. For all I knew, that story she had told me about the Doomsday Missile and her people no longer being allied with the Mutants was some Lunatac trick.

Although, come to think of it, I hadn't seen any Ice Lunatacs among the Cult of Mumm-Ra. But that still didn't mean Icelia could be trusted; for all I knew, her people had their own agenda and she had fed me that story to get the Thundercats on their side. And then there was the question of the Statue fragment she had. How had it come into her possession? I knew the Thundercats would never have entrusted it to an enemy race. Had some Ice Lunatac stolen it from its rightful owner?

I did not know, but, if that was the case, it made three fragments which had fallen into enemy hands. Whatever the cost, we had to protect the remaining six, make sure the Cult of Mumm-Ra couldn't get their hands on them. Already, Lizarius and his minions must be planning to hunt us down and bring us back to Castle Plundarr. And, since I had refused to reveal the location of the fragment I had hidden, I knew they would use any means at their disposal to extract that information.

But I told myself that, no matter what they did, I would never reveal anything. I would never betray the trust Wilykit had passed on to me.

* * *

I was woken the next morning by my mother entering the room I had been given in this underground complex, a lamp in her hand. The Refuge was lit round the clock, as there was no such thing as daylight down here, but that was the price we had to pay for our safety. No-one was allowed to leave the Refuge alone; you always had to be with at least one other person . . . Well, I say "person", but, since our conglomerate of fugitives consisted of humans, Thundercats, a Wollo, Berbils and Brutemen, "being" might be a better word.

Anyway, my mother came in and walked over to me. "Morning, Storm," she said. Not that concepts like "morning", "noon" and "night" meant anything down here. "Breakfast is almost ready." It was so like most other mornings of my life that, for a moment, I was able to forget all about the Cult of Mumm-Ra and the Statue of Omens and remember when I was just a regular Thunderian boy, albeit one who was destined to lead our people one day. "So you'd better come on," my mother added, snapping me out of my daydream.

I followed her into a room lined with long tables, at which most of those who had taken shelter here sat, eating. The Berbils, who, I had learned, did not eat in the conventional sense (although they did extract some form of energy from their Berbil fruit) were bustling around, serving everyone else. My mother and I sat down at the table furthest from the door, where our fellow Thundercats and Koris were already seated. I found myself sitting between Lynxari and Fangelo, as a Berbil approached with a laden tray.

"Help yourselves," the Berbil said. Its robotic voice seemed higher than that of the other Berbils I'd met and this, along with the bows tied round its ears, made me suspect that this Berbil was female. I helped myself from the tray which she held before me - some of those strange bread-like fruits I had seen growing in the Berbil village - and sat back as she moved on to serve someone else.

Breakfast passed without incident. The Breadfruit, as I learned the strange fruit was called, was delicious, kind of like regular bread, but sweeter and with a large stone at the centre. I supposed this must be the seed.

* * *

"What's the agenda for today?" Ocelotra asked at length.

My father paused. "Well, we'll be sending someone out to look for the Unicorn Keepers," he said at length. "We can't leave such gentle beings out there with the Cult of Mumm-Ra around. Queen Tia's already volunteered her services - the Warrior Maidens know the forests of this planet better than any of us. And I'll be patrolling with Kayon and Pumar," he added, glancing down at the Sword of Omens by his side.

"I'd like to come with you," I cut in, determined not to spend any more time in this Refuge than I had to. Had I been back on New Thundera, I would have been getting ready to go to school right now, either that or planning to go off somewhere with Hunter. I had never before spent any length of time confined to one place.

But my father shook his head. "It's out of the question, Storm. You are my heir, destined to be the next Lord of the Thundercats. I can't risk the Cult of Mumm-Ra capturing you - or worse."

"But . . ." I started to object. But my father cut me off before I could say another word.

"No, Storm, and that's my final word. You will stay here where it's safe."

"Safe is boring!" I muttered under my breath. I was at an age where I was getting sick of being treated like a child. Though I was growing up, people still seemed to want to treat me as though I was still the little boy I had been a few years earlier. Snarf Emala had been a particular thorn in my side, constantly butting into my affairs; her meddling and lecturing was worse than ever and I was glad to have left her behind on New Thundera. But, maybe if I did something to prove I could handle things on my own, people would start treating me with a bit of respect. After all, I was going to be Lord of the Thundercats one day . . .

* * *

Once my father, Pumar and Kayon had left to go on their patrol and Queen Tia, accompanied by two of her Warrior Maidens had gone to look for the Unicorn Keepers, I sought out Koris and the young Warrior Maiden, Jaya. Like me, Jaya had been deemed "too young" to accompany her leader on her mission. And, like me, she did not want to spend all her time cooped up here. She was used to roaming the forests, as were all the Warrior Maidens.

"So, what are we going to do?" she asked, as the three of us huddled together in a corner.

I winked at her. "Between us, we're going to free all the Cult's prisoners. Then, we're going to bring them back here." I could imagine the praise we would receive when we showed up with a throng of freed prisoners and told the others how we, the three youngest beings in the Refuge, had been the ones who set them free. No-one would dare treat us like kids after this. No-one would leave us out of "dangerous missions" once we had proved we could handle ourselves. True, Koris was a Wollo, a race not accustomed to fighting, but I was a Thundercat and Jaya was a Warrior Maiden; warrior blood flowed in our veins and, teenagers as we were, we were sure we could handle whatever we came up against.

But, as we would soon discover, taking on an enemy the size of the Cult of Mumm-Ra is not something to be done lightly.


	10. Chapter 10

****

Chapter Ten

We (Koris, Jaya and myself) were on a mission.

Sneaking out of the Refuge had been fairly easy; its security system was designed to keep unwelcome visitors from getting in, not to prevent us from getting out. All we had to do was wait until the patrols left, then nip outside after them. Trouble was, as the entrance only stayed open for a couple of minutes and none of our trio of young would-be heroes was a Cheetah Thunderian, we had had to figure out a way to keep the entrance from closing before we could sneak out. In the end, Jaya had jammed the door mechanism with her leather gauntlet, preventing the door from closing completely. From there, it had just been a matter of holding the door open long enough for all three of us to get through it. Jaya went last, grabbing her gauntlet as she left and just making it through the entrance before, the obstruction removed, it sealed itself again.

Anyway, we were on a mission to free those held prisoner by the Cult of Mumm-Ra and, right now, we were heading in the direction of Castle Plundarr. I had not cared for the place before and the thought of going back there filled me with dread. But I had to; as a future Lord of the Thundercats, it would one day be my duty to help those in need - such as the Cult's prisoners. No matter what happened, I had to see this through.

* * *

"Look there!" Jaya called in a loud whisper.

Koris and I hurried over to where she was crouching down, pointing to something on the forest floor. Looking closely, I could just make out the imprint of a bare foot, one with clearly defined claws. "Reptilian Mutant," Jaya explained. Like all Warrior Maidens, she was an expert tracker. "See how flat and wide it is?" By way of comparison, she stood up and placed her own foot in the print; it did not touch the edges. "And quite fresh too," she went on. "We could be near Castle Plundarr."

"But which way is it?" I asked. Though I lacked Jaya's tracking skills, I knew enough to know that the direction the footprint was pointing was no indication that the Reptilian who had made it had been heading in the direction of Castle Plundarr.

"I'll climb up and have a look," Jaya replied, pointing to a nearby tree which looked like it might be climbable. With that, she launched herself at the tree and, with the agility of one who has had much practice at climbing trees, began hauling herself up the branches. "You boys keep watch!" she called down to Koris and me. "And no looking up my skirt!"

Actually, ogling Jaya was the last thing on my mind; though I was at an age where I was becoming curious about girls, I knew this was neither the time nor the place. Besides, I could never think of her as anything more than a friend. Being a Thundercat, I was, by a tradition dating back to Old Thundera, only allowed to marry another Thunderian. And, since I was a future Lord of the Thundercats, it would be preferable if I chose a mate who was also a Lion, not that all that mattered right now; I was still a few years short of the age at which I would need to give the matter any serious consideration.

In any case, Jaya climbed the tree and stationed herself on a wide branch, crouching there like a predator lying in wait for its prey. In her hand, she clasped the throwing axe she used as a weapon. All Warrior Maidens were trained in the use of a range of weapons - spears, bows and arrows, slings, daggers, axes - before choosing the one they wanted to specialise in. Jaya had chosen the throwing axe and had been practising with it for the past year. Now, she crouched in the tree, holding her axe in readiness to attack.

Jaya had told me a little about the Warrior Maidens' culture. They were humans, related to the people living in a small, remote village, a people who had developed a custom of training their daughters, but not their sons, to be warriors. Somewhere down the line, several of these daughters had built the Treetop Kingdom and started calling themselves Warrior Maidens. Only young women were allowed to live in the Treetop Kingdom, their menfolk only coming to the arboreal community for what Jaya refered to as the "Breeding"; I don't think I need to tell you what _that_ meant. In any case, the daughter of a Warrior Maiden would grow in the Treetop Kingdom and be trained so that she could become a Warrior Maiden herself. The son of a Warrior Maiden was taken to the village and brought up by the men and those women who had grown too old for life in the trees.

* * *

However, I was soon distracted from thinking about what Jaya had told me. A short time later, she scrambled down the tree to join Koris and myself at its foot. "That way," she told us, pointing to the west. "I saw Castle Plundarr over the trees."

"Was there anyone about?" asked Koris.

Jaya shook her head. "Not that I could see. We should get over there quickly - before any of the Cult show up." She hefted her throwing axe, the only weapon we had between us since my chakram was still back at Castle Plundarr and Koris's people did not carry weapons. "Come on!" she called to us.

So we set off in the direction of Castle Plundarr, a place I would have avoided if at all possible. But, with Lannal and the Cult's other prisoners still languishing in the dungeons and awaiting a terrible fate, I knew I had to see this through, especially since it had been my idea in the first place. Jaya, being the only one out of the three of us who knew the way, took the leader and I followed her, with Koris bringing up the rear. We (Jaya and I) quickly fell into a fairly brisk march, both of us driven by the warrior instinct within us. But, in our eagerness to reach our destination, we forgot something rather important; Koris was much smaller than us and, with his shorter legs, couldn't hope to keep up with our current pace. Unseen by either Jaya or myself, he began to fall further and further behind.

"So," Jaya said at length, "you figured out how we get in?" By now, Castle Plundarr was coming into view, looking for all the world like a giant stone dragon guarding its den.

I hesitated. Trying to rescue the Cult's prisoners had been a spur of the moment idea, borne out of an urge to prove we were no longer kids. But I hadn't given any serious consideration to how we were actually going to go about it and nor had Jaya and Koris. Nonetheless, I was now faced with another of the challenges which face a Lord of the Thundercats, the need to come up with a plan of action. "Well . . ." I paused. " . . . there's got to be a way for one of us to sneak in and let the others in. And, since Koris is the smallest of us, I think he should be that one." At this point, I was still unaware that Koris was now far behind Jaya and myself.

"You're right," Jaya agreed. "Koris," she added, not taking her eyes off the Castle, "we need you to scout round and look for a way in. An open window or something. Can you do that?"

There was no reply.

"Koris?"

* * *

Jaya and I silently cursed ourselves as we realised what must have happened. Koris had fallen so far behind that we could no longer see him. Why hadn't we taken his smaller size into consideration before we went marching off? I grabbed Jaya by the hand. "Come on!" I urged her.

"But what about . . .?" She nodded in the direction of Castle Plundarr and I instinctively knew what she was thinking.

"Never mind that. Right now, we've got to go back for Koris . . ." I paused. "As a future Lord of the Thundercats, I must . . ."

". . . learn not to take on more than you can handle on your own!" a female voice called, cutting me off in mid-sentence. Jaya and I spun round at the sound of the voice. The female Psy Lunatac called Grimla was standing only a few feet from us, flanked by the mute Jackal Mutant, Jacklon, and another Lunatac. This one was short and squat, with white skin and blue hair which looked as though someone had hacked it off with a scythe. But strangest of all were his legs; they looked as though they had had metal pistons grafted to them at some point.

"So," Grimla said, an enigmatic smirk crossing her features, "the Thunderbrat returns - and with one of Queen Tia's lackeys. Too bad I missed all the fun at your Kingdom," she said to Jaya, with that same enigmatic smirk. "Not that it matters for a Psy Lunatac, of course - I can extract the memory from your mind."

"No!" Jaya whimpered, her hand flying to her mouth as her Warrior Maiden's courage failed her for a moment. It was plain that whatever the Cult of Mumm-Ra had done in the Treetop Kingdom had been so terrible that Jaya did not want to think about it. She was probably no more than fifteen or sixteen years old and she had seen her people all but wiped out . . .

"If I say you will show me what is in your mind, you will!" Grimla shot back. "There is no hiding from a Psy Lunatac's mind! And, while we're at it," she added, addressing me, "I believe we have some unfinished business concerning a fragment from a certain Statue . . ."

"I told you scum before - I'll never reveal its location!" I shot back. I turned to Jaya. "Let's get out of here before more of them show up!" I whispered to her. Young and impulsive I may have been, but even I knew better than to try and take on the entire Cult of Mumm-Ra single-handed.

Jaya took my cue at once, but, as we prepared to make a run for it, we heard Grimla's voice behind us. "You won't escape that easily, you foolish brats! Gravlok! Get them!" The next thing we knew, the Lunatac with pistons grafted to his legs had vaulted - literally vaulted - over our heads and was standing directly in front of us, barring our way.

* * *

Instinctively, I threw myself at the Lunatac, whose name I now knew to be Gravlok, and, lacking any kind of weapon, made to punch him in the face. A foolish mistake, as it turned out; Gravlok was a Graviton Lunatac, possessed of tremendous strength as well as jumping ability. Before I could land a blow, he grabbed my arm and twisted it behind my back, laughing evilly at the look of pain which crossed my face.

"Never send a cub to do a grown-up's job!" he laughed. Then, still keeping a tight hold on me, he vaulted into the air and landed at Grimla's feet. She, I noted with some alarm, had Jaya's unconscious form draped over her shoulders, having evidently captured her while I was occupied with Gravlok. But how had she done it? I knew enough about the Warrior Maidens by now to know that they would not allow themselves to be defeated as easily as Grimla had defeated Jaya.

"What have you done to her?!" I demanded, struggling vainly in Gravlok's strong grip.

Grimla smiled. "Merely hypnotised her. Psychic powers have their uses - especially when it comes to subduing rebellious little girls. She'll wake up in time. And, meanwhile, we are heading back to Castle Plundarr and you brats are coming with us."

"Never!" I retorted, wincing as Gravlok tightened his already powerful grip on me. Just how much strength did these Graviton Lunatacs have?! If he kept putting this kind of pressure on my arm, he might end up breaking it. Worse, it was my right arm he was crushing and I happen to be right-handed. I knew from Pumar's weapons training sessions that a person could learn to fight with their off-hand if their main arm was too badly damaged, but it took practice.

"I never said it was optional," was all Grimla said.

* * *

And, so, I found myself a prisoner of the Cult of Mumm-Ra once again, fastened to a large wooden table by my wrists and ankles as Grimla stood over me. "So," she said, looking at me as though I was no more than an insect, "are you ready to reveal where you hid the fragment yet?"

I said nothing, keeping my face blank and focusing my gaze on the light fitting overhead.

"Well?" Grimla pressed when I showed no sign of saying anything. "Answer me, you insignificant cub!"

I still said nothing, determined that, no matter what happened to me, I would never tell the Cult of Mumm-Ra where I had hidden the piece of the Statue of Omens which Wilykit had given me. It was her legacy to me . . . No, more than that - it was her legacy to all of us. I was the new Guardian for the Thundercats and I was not about to betray that trust.

"In that case," Grimla said in a voice without emotion, "I shall have to force that information from you . . ." She turned her unblinking gaze to me and, the next thing I knew, her eyes began to glow and I found myself unable to look away. "Storm of Thundera," Grimla said in a powerful hypnotic voice. "You are in my power. Resistance is useless! You will reveal to me exactly where you hid your fragment of the Statue of Omens!"

"Never!" I gasped, already aware of her mind probing mine. Well, I wasn't going to let her get at the information she wanted that easily. I was going to think about anything other than the Statue of Omens, especially the piece of it which I had hidden in Cats' Lair. Struggling to ignore her persuasive voice, I conjured up a mental image of my childhood, a time long before the fragment had been entrusted to me . . .

* * *

_I was seven at the time, Hunter was five and Lata, Sita, Sylvia and Tigon weren't even born yet. We were sitting with Wilykit, listening as she read to us out of "Felindra's Fables"._

". . . but the two children realised they had wandered too far into the forest and were now lost among the trees," Wilykit said, reading from the book which lay open on her lap.

"Little Cattali began to weep. "Oh, Felor!" she cried. "Whatever shall we do?" For it was getting dark and she had heard many terrible things about what lurked in this forest at night."

""Fear not, little sister!" said Felor. "We shall find a way out of here!". He took hold of Cattali's hand and they began to walk, hoping they would find the trail which led out of this dark and terrifying forest."

"Cattali . . ."

* * *

At that moment, the memory was cut off abruptly, as Grimla's voice intruded into my thoughts. "How very interesting - a Thunderbrats' bedtime story. But that's not what I wanted to see." She stared at me more intensely than before. "Do not resist me. Reveal the information I want - now!"

In that moment, I realised that she meant to search my whole mind, probe every memory, every scrap of knowledge I possessed, until she found what she was looking for. Well, she wasn't going to get what she wanted! I was going to resist her powers, even if the effort killed me. Already, I could feel my head aching like it had never ached before; this, I supposed, was a side-effect of Grimla's powers of Persuasion, but the agony was almost indescribable. It felt as though a thousand hammers were pounding away inside my skull.

"I'll never . . . tell you!"


	11. Chapter 11

****

Chapter Eleven

"Grimla!"

Through my haze, I registered the fact that Lizarius had just marched in and was currently berating the Psy Lunatac who had been trying to probe my mind. "You were told not to ussssssse your powerssssss on thisssss boy!" the Reptilian Mutant hissed. "You were told he wassssss not to be harmed until he had sssssssspoken to reveal the location of hissssss fragment of the Ssssssstatue!"

"Begging your pardon, Lizarius," Grimla said with feigned humility. "But I thought you wanted the information as quickly as possible. I know it was risky, but what else did you expect me to do?"

"I expect you to follow orderssssssss!" Lizarius shot back. "And my ordersssss were that the information we need wasssssss to be extracted through meansssssss other than your powerssssssss!" My eyes were closed throughout this heated exchange - it hurt too much to open them - but I could imagine the looks on my captors' faces. Lizarius, proud and imperious, glaring at the Lunatac who had gone against his wishes, while Grimla glared back at him with a defiant expression on her face. I had seen enough of the Cult of Mumm-Ra by now to know that its members felt no friendship for each other, only a fanatical devotion to achieving their aims. No matter what the cost . . .

* * *

Lizarius moved closer to me and leaned over so that his face was only inches from mine. Once more, I caught the full blast of his rancid breath, which smelled so rank that I felt physically sick. "For the lasssst time," he said in his hissing Reptilian voice, "tell me what I want to know!"

"Never!" I managed to force the word out, struggling against the haze Grimla's powers had put me under. I did not know what she had done to my mind, only that it had caused me considerable pain when I tried to resist, tried to keep her from accessing the knowledge she wanted. It was probably only thanks to Lizarius that she hadn't ended up killing me, but I knew I was no better off with him as an interogator. Nonetheless, I was determined not to give him the satisfaction of forcing me to speak.

"In that casssse . . ." Lizarius said. Then, he turned and called to someone outside. "Bring in the girl! We'll ssssee if a threat to her misssserable life can make thisssss brat talk!"

I forced my eyes open just in time to see the female Reptilian, Karsa, dragging Jaya (whose hands were bound behind her back) into the room, with Gravlok walking alongside them. Jaya looked at Lizarius defiantly, as if daring him to do whatever he wanted to her, no matter what it was. "Bring it on!" she shouted, struggling against her bonds. "Unlike you, I am no coward! I am . . ."

She got no further before Gravlok, at a signal from Lizarius, stepped forward and put his hands round her throat. He squeezed, lightly at first but gradually increasing the pressure until Jaya was forced to her knees, struggling for breath. "Now then, Thunderbrat," Lizarius said to me. "Gravlok issss quite capable of breaking her neck - ssssso I sssssuggessst you co-operate if you want her to live much longer. Now, tell me - where isssss the Ssssstatue fragment?"

"Don't . . . tell . . . him!" Jaya managed to choke out, as Gravlok kept up the relentless pressure on her throat. It was plain from the expression on his face that Gravlok was enjoying himself, that he was going to keep the pressure up for as long as it took for me to cave in and tell them what they wanted to know. Unable to do anything to help my friend, I said nothing and lay still, trying to avert my eyes from the sight of Jaya vainly struggling against the powerful grip of the Graviton Lunatac. It was a struggle she couldn't possibly win; even though she was a Warrior Maiden and very tough, there are few who can withstand the strength of a member of the Graviton race.

"Are you ready to talk yet?" Lizarius demanded at length.

"I'll never betray my people!" I shot back. That, I now understood, was what they meant by the word "Loyalty", one of the four main tenets of the Code of Thundera.

Lizarius's only response was to turn to Gravlok, who was still keeping up the pressure on Jaya's throat. "Finissssh her!" he ordered, his tone filled with menace and an underlying sense that he took a sadistic pleasure in this sort of thing.

But, as a tear rolled down Jaya's cheek, I realised I could not allow this to happen. I was a Thundercat and, as such, could not allow an innocent to die, no matter what the circumstances. "Stop!" I shouted, my head still pounding from Grimla's probing. "I - I'll talk . . ."

* * *

Before I could say anything, however, there was a sudden commotion at the entrance to the room. Then, my father, Ocelotra, Kayon, Pumar and Queen Tia swept in, all of them with their weapons drawn. My father was brandishing the Sword of Omens (which he had evidently managed to retrieve) in front of him, a fierce battle-light in his eyes. I had seen him carry the Sword on ceremonial occassions many times, but I had never seen him wield it in battle. It was as if he had become a whole different Thundercat, one who would let nothing stand in his way.

"HOOOOOOOOO!" he shouted, raising the Sword above his head, as the mystic blade began to crackle with electricity. Seconds later, a bolt of white lightning shot out of the Sword and began zapping every Mutant and Lunatac in the room, but leaving Jaya and myself unharmed. I was not surprised by this because, though I had never seen the Sword of Omens in action before, I knew it had the power to tell friend from foe and would never harm a Thundercat or one of their allies. In any case, it quickly put Lizarius and his cronies out of action, leaving them slumped unconscious on the floor.

"That oughta put them out of action for a while," said Ocelotra. She then turned her attention to me. "Storm? Can you walk?"

"I - I think so," I told her. To be honest, I hadn't tried even tried to stand yet, never mind walk. There was only one way to find out. I tried to pull myself up off the table I had been lying on, only for my head to start spinning uncontrollably as soon as I moved. "Guess not," I said with a wry smile on my face, vaguely aware that Tia was examining Jaya. The young Warrior Maiden had fingermarks on her throat from where Gravlok had tried to throttle her, but otherwise seemed unharmed.

That was the last thing I saw before passing out.

* * *

The next thing I remember is waking up to find myself back in the Refuge, my mother sitting beside me. "W - what happened?" I asked her. My head still ached slightly, but it wasn't as bad as it had been immediately after Grimla used her powers on me.

"Don't try to talk," my mother said. "You were captured by the Cult of Mumm-Ra, you and Jaya. Don't you remember?"

I nodded, wondering how much time had passed since my ordeal in Castle Plundarr. "Is Jaya OK?" I asked. "And what happened to Koris?"

"They're both fine. Jaya's got some bruising on her throat, but, aside from that, she wasn't hurt. As for Koris, your father, Pumar and Kayon ran into him while on patrol and brought him back here. He told us that the three of you had some foolish idea about taking on the Cult of Mumm-Ra single-handed, which meant we had to devise a rescue plan. And, for that, they needed the Sword of Omens."

"So they took Ocelotra and Tia and slipped into Castle Plundarr . . ." My mother paused for a moment, then continued. "Anyway, long story short - they found the Sword and managed to retrieve it. And, just when they did, it began growling to warn your father that you were in danger . . ."

I did not pay much attention to the rest of my mother's explanation; my mind was replaying what she had said about the Sword alerting my father to the danger I was in. I had heard stories about the Sword's ability to detect when a Thundercat was in danger, but more than eighty years of peace meant that had not happened in my lifetime and had only happened twice since Lion-O's day. The Eye of Thundera had mostly remained dormant in the intervening years, but now it seemed it was waking up again. And I had been the one to wake it.

"Anyway," my mother finished, "your father will be wanting words with all three of you, but at least you're all safe."

"I - I guess so," I said, realising that my attempt to prove I was old enough to handle myself had just backfired badly. Not only had Jaya and I been captured by the Cult of Mumm-Ra and had to be rescued, we (and Koris) would shortly be getting the reprimand of our lives.

* * *

A few hours later, Jaya, Koris and I stood side-by-side, facing my father, Kayon and Queen Tia, who had become the unofficial leaders of those in the Refuge. Unable to bring myself to look into my father's eyes, I kept my gaze fixed firmly on the ground, as we waited for the inevitable lecture. I was used to being lectured by Snarf Emala, but that didn't make me hate it any less. And the worst thing was that I knew I deserved whatever punishment they decided to impose. Because of my recklessness, I had caused Jaya and myself to be captured and had nearly betrayed the hiding place of my piece of the Statue of Omens.

My father cleared his throat and began. "Storm of Thundera, Jaya of the Warrior Maidens, Koris of the Wollos," he said, without a trace of emotion in his voice, "you were given explicit instructions not to leave the Refuge, instructions you chose to ignore. Instead, the three of you went out, knowing full well that the Cult of Mumm-Ra were at large and, as a result, two of you were captured."

"What do you have to say for yourselves?" added Tia, leaning forward in her seat.

"Queen Tia," Jaya said, lowering herself to her knees, "it was Storm's idea. He thought that, if we could free those the Cult held prisoner, it would prove we could handle things on our own."

"Only, it didn't work out like that," Tia said. "Not only did you not free the Cult's prisoners, you and Storm were captured yourselves."

"And, had we not rescued you, you would still be in the Cult's clutches," Kayon added. "Which is the last thing any of us would want. Yes, we know the Cult are holding prisoners, but there are better ways of rescuing them than rushing in recklessly."

"What about the way you rushed in and rescued us?" I demanded, speaking for the first time since arriving in the room we were currently in. "What's the difference between that and what we tried to do?"

My father looked at me more sternly than I had ever seen him look at me before. "The difference, Storm, is that we had a plan in mind - a hastily devised plan, but still a plan. You three gave no thought to how you would achieve what you were setting out to do, no thought to how three teenagers could take on an enemy the size of the Cult. Yes, I'm well aware that you will be Lord of the Thundercats one day, but you need to temper your courage with wisdom and learn to know your limitations." He then turned to Tia and Kayon. "What do we do with those who disobey orders and put themselves in danger?" he asked.

There was a pause which lasted for several seconds and I began to speculate about what kind of punishment might be imposed on us. If we were supposed to be confined to the Refuge anyway, they couldn't very well ground us. And, with the Cult around, I doubted they would go to the opposite extreme and kick us out of the Refuge. I had heard of Thundercats being stripped of their title and made to remove the Insignia from their clothes, but I knew it was a punishment reserved for serious breaches of the Code of Thundera, not some teenaged misadventure. Besides, Jaya and Koris were not even Thunderians . . .

"Lord Feleo," Tia said at length, "Storm, Jaya and Koris did a foolish thing, but they are still children. And I think being captured by the Cult should be enough of a lesson in itself."

"I agree with Tia," Kayon added. "Hopefully, this experience will have taught them the importance of following orders and that, when we tell them to stay within the Refuge, we do so for their own safety."

My father paused to consider what they had just said, then spoke to announce his decision. "Very well - there will be no punishment, but I will give all three of you a formal warning. You must never again leave the Refuge without permission or without at least one adult. And you must certainly abandon any plans you might have for rescuing the Cult's prisoners by yourselves. And you, Storm, must learn to curb any foolish heroics you might be tempted to engage in. Being Lord of the Thundercats is a great responsibility and you need to face up to that and set an example to others. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Father," I said, looking him full in the face.

"Yes, Lord Feleo," Jaya and Koris said at the same time.

* * *

Grateful to have been let off with a warning, Koris, Jaya and I went to join the others. I had already resolved that I would try to do as my father had said and not attempt to take on the Cult of Mumm-Ra again, at least not without sufficient back-up. This was only one of many hard lessons I would have to learn on the path to becoming Lord of the Thundercats and I meant to learn them all. I recalled the names of my immediate ancestors - Claudus, Lion-O, Leonus, Feleo - all worthy Lords of the Thundercats, vowing that I too would prove worthy. Even so, it would be a few years yet before I would have to take the responsibility seriously; right now, I was determined to behave as much like a normal fourteen-year-old boy as I could given our current circumstances.

"Are you two up for a quick game?" I asked Koris and Jaya. There were a few games which Hunter and I used to play in the corridors of Cats' Lair back on New Thundera and I felt sure we could adapt them for the Refuge. If nothing else, it would kill time and take our minds off our confinement. And, with Snarf Emala on New Thundera, there would be no-one to keep butting in . . . Thinking of Snarf Emala reminded me of something, something which made me start laughing.

"What's so funny?" Jaya asked, surprised. I was not normally given to outbursts of spontaneous laughter.

"Sorry," I said, pulling myself together. "I was just thinking about the Snarf that looked after me when I was younger. Um, a Snarf is a sort of talking Thunderian animal," I added for the benefit of my two friends. "And many Thunderian families train them to look after their children. Anyway, the one in Cats' Lair on New Thundera is called Snarf Emala - and she's a right old fusspot."

"Go on," prompted Koris.

"Yes. Well, one day, my friend, Hunter, and I decided to play a trick on her. So we got hold of a bucket of green paint, took the top off and balanced it on the door to her quarters. Then, when she opened the door . . ." I began to laugh again at the memory of seeing a bright green (and very angry) Snarf storming down the corridors of Cats' Lair. It had taken Snarf Emala several baths to get all the green paint out of her fur, but, luckily for Hunter and I, she had never managed to pin the blame on either of us.

* * *

Laughing, Jaya, Koris and I arrived in what had become the main assembly area for the Refuge to find everyone gathered together. Composing myself, I walked up to my mother and asked her what was going on.

"A patrol caught a prisoner," she explained. "A Lunatac. She's being brought in right now."

"She?" I echoed, hoping against hope that this Lunatac wouldn't turn out to be Grimla. She was the last person I wanted to see right now, especially after the way she had tried to probe my mind. But, then, I heard a voice which I had last heard on my journey to Third Earth.

"You must listen to me! I need to see the Thundercats immediately!"

"You'll be seeing the Thundercats, all right," retorted a male voice. It was one of the humans who were here with Kayon, but I still didn't know any of their names. "And I'm sure they'll have plenty of questions to ask you."

"Icelia?" I thought to myself.


	12. Chapter 12

****

Chapter Twelve

I watched as two of Kayon's men hauled a woman with blue skin and long white hair into the Refuge. Looking at her closely, I noted that she was wearing the same green gown she had worn when she contacted me via videolink on my way to Third Earth, though it was now worn and travel-stained. Nevertheless, this was Icelia and maybe I would now have a chance to find out just whose side she was on.

At that moment, however, the men escorting her halted in front of my father and forced her to kneel before him. "Picked up this Lunatac near the River of Despair," one of them explained, refering to a river I had been told was full of all kinds of nasty creatures. "What do you want us to do with her?"

My father leaned forward in his chair. "Was she alone?"

"As far as we could tell - at least, we didn't see any other Lunatacs nearby. And it was enough trouble catching this one. She tried to freeze us, but we put a stop to that with our Freeze Inhibitor." He gestured towards a collar around Icelia's neck; that had to be the Freeze Inhibitor, a device which prevented beings with ice-related abilities from using their powers. I'd heard of such devices, but this was the first time I'd actually seen one. "We thought you might want to question her," the man went on.

"I certainly do," my father said, signalling the guards to stand down, then turning to Icelia. "Lunatac," he said sternly, "can you explain your presence here?"

"I refuse to answer any questions unless you address me by name," Icelia retorted, her eyes fixed firmly on my father.

"Very well," my father said, not used to be ordered about by Lunatacs but seeing he had no choice if he wanted to get anywhere. "What is your name?"

"It's Icelia. And I have important . . ."

"Oh yes?" was my father's response, cutting her off in mid-sentence. "And what exactly would a Lunatac like you deem to be "important"?"

Icelia continued speaking as if she hadn't been interupted. ". . . news that concerns your son and everyone who carries part of the Statue of Omens." Before anyone could stop her, she reached into her pocket and, moments later, held up the same fragment of statue she had shown me over the videolink. "You see this?" she asked in a tone which dared everyone present to disbelieve her. "This is what the Cult of Mumm-Ra are after. I have . . ."

She got no further before a mutter of contempt began to circulate round the room, though I refrained from joining in. Fangelo cleared his throat and turned to face the Ice Lunatac. "Yes, we are well aware of what the Cult of Mumm-Ra are doing," he told her. "What we're interested in is what you are doing here. And how you came to have part of the Statue of Omens . . ." He folded his arms and fixed Icelia with a penetrating stare.

Icelia paused, deliberating on whether or not she should co-operate. Then, she shrugged. "Very well - it seems I have little choice."

* * *

And Icelia launched into a long account of how she had been given one of the fragments by a human working for the Galactic Police; at the time, she had been under arrest for her part in a robbery, but had gained the trust of the arresting officer, who had then asked her to "look after something". That something had proved to be a part of the Statue of Omens, though she did not recognise its significance at the time. "But our government did," Icelia explained. "There are . . . were legends on the Ice Moon which told of a Statue which . . ."

"And you expect us to believe that?" asked Ocelotra, cutting Icelia off in mid-sentence.

Icelia ignored the interuption. " . . . was the one thing which could keep Mumm-Ra from escaping and wreaking havoc once more. But it was fragmented, scattered among different races, and he needed someone to inherit his piece. That's how I came to have this," she concluded, holding her fragment of the Statue of Omens up for us all to see.

"Oh, yes?" Ocelotra's tone was sceptical. "And why didn't this officer entrust the fragment to one of his fellows?"

Before Icelia could reply, the entire Refuge was suddenly shaken by a very powerful earthquake, the floor vibrating and shuddering beneath our feet. It was more violent than anything I had ever experienced before and, to make matters worse, some instinct told me that this earthquake wasn't natural. Indeed, I knew from what the native Third Earthlings had told me that earthquakes were rare in this area. And no-one had ever recorded one this big. Already, I could see dust (and even small pebbles) falling from the ceiling.

"Outside!" my father shouted, above the ensuing cries of panic. "It's our only chance!"

* * *

Not wanting to end up buried under tons of rubble, we all raced to the exit, Kayon escorting Icelia. I suspect some of us would have prefered to leave her to get crushed, but, since there was no time to debate the issue, we had to take her with us. Even so, as the tremors died down into silence, there were those of us who were highly suspicious of the Ice Lunatac who had come into our midst.

"I don't see why you had to bring _her_!" Jaya said to Kayon, pointing an accusing finger at Icelia. "She probably caused that quake!"

"How could I?" Icelia shot back, glaring at the young Warrior Maiden as though she would like to use her Ice powers on her. "I'm an Ice Lunatac - I can't cause earthquakes."

"OK," Queen Tia cut in before Jaya could say anything in reply. "I think we'll have to believe Icelia on that one. Ice Lunatacs do not have the power to trigger Earthquakes - I know that much about them . . . Which still leaves us with the question of what _did_ cause it," she added after a moment's pause.

"To say nothing of what we're going to do now," filled in Ocelotra, gesturing towards where the boulder which had once hidden the entrance to the Refuge lay tilted on its side. We all looked at it, each of us feeling the full impact of what had happened. If the way into the Refuge was blocked, that meant we had lost the one place we had been safe from the Cult of Mumm-Ra, the one place we could hide while we put together a plan to counter the greatest threat since Mumm-Ra was sealed into the Book of Omens more than eighty years before.

Suddenly, I felt the racial memory of generations of Thundercat Lords stirring within me. "Do?" I said, stepping out in front of the assembled throng. "I'll tell you what we'll do! Whether the Cult caused that quake or not makes no difference - we won't let them win! And we can do that if we remember the Code of Thundera!" I held my hand horizontally across my chest in the traditional Thundercat salute as I said the words: "Justice! Truth! Honour! Loyalty!"

And, with one voice, my fellow Thundercats echoed my words.

* * *

"Good speech, young Storm," Ro-bear Bill said as we continued our trek. "You sounded just like your great-grandfather."

We were on a journey with no foreseeable end, at least not one that would be favourable for us. I was part of a long caravan of beings, led by my parents and Queen Tia, while Ocelotra, Fangelo and Pumar acted as a rear guard. Kayon was in the centre of the column with Icelia, whom we were still suspicious of; consequently, we had agreed that it would be best to keep her where she had the least potential to cause trouble. We would decide on her long-term future later . . . if there was a later. We had no way of knowing what had caused the earthquake which demolished the Refuge, just a suspicion that the Cult of Mumm-Ra were somehow mixed up in it.

"Well, I wish he was here right now," I said, recalling all the stories Wilykit had told me about Lion-O's brave deeds. But, since he wasn't, we would have to handle this ourselves. We would have to take on the Cult of Mumm-Ra and either emerge triumphant or . . .

As though simply thinking about the Cult of Mumm-Ra had tempted fate, we suddenly found our path blocked by a entire phalanx of Mutants and Lunatacs. At the head of the column stood none other than Lizarius himself, with Grimla at his side, both of them smirking with evil triumph. Scanning the rest of the Cult, I quickly identified Jacklon, Gravlok and several others - in fact, it looked as though the whole Cult was out in force. But what did they want? Whatever it was, I was certain it would not be good.

At the head of our column, my father stared Lizarius full in the face. Then, he said a single word: "Lizarius."

"Ssssso," Lizarius hissed. "The ratssssss have emerged from their hole. Good, that meanssssssss the Sssssseismatron hassssssss done itssssssss job."

"So, it was you!" My mother's angry voice rang out clearly. "Your scum caused that earthquake!" I had never seen her look so angry before; her flame red hair made her look as though she was on fire with rage. "The Thundranium in the Subway?" she added at length, after she had calmed down a little. "Was that your work as well?" I had almost forgotten about that, with everything else that had been happening lately, but it seemed my mother had not.

In response, Grimla and Lizarius parted, allowing a male Psy Lunatac to step forward. "Meet Psychon," Grimla said, gesturing towards the male of her race. "He's highly skilled in the art of Concealment and Masking - which made it easy for him to infiltrate your insignificant world. As for the Thundranium, basically the same thing."

* * *

It did not take me long to work out what Grimla meant. Psychon must have used his powers to make everyone on New Thundera think he was a Thunderian - or at least one of the races allied with us. And he must have used those same powers to pass off his cargo of Thundranium as something harmless. How he had managed to release it into the Subway was anyone's guess. Had he somehow found work as a member of a maintenance crew? In any case, at least we now knew who had been responsible for the Thundranium and it seemed to bear out my suspicions that the Thundranium had been released to distract the Thundercats while the Cult of Mumm-Ra finalised their plans.

But there was one thing none of us understood. And it was Lynxari who gave voice to our concerns. "Why are you telling us this?"

"Simple," replied Grimla. "We can't let any of you die without knowing every detail of our plans. And die you will once Mumm-Ra is set free."

"You've still got to get past the defences in the Book of Omens!" my mother shouted defiantly. And the look on her face made it clear that anyone who wanted to attack the Book of Omens (which she was carrying in a satchel) would have to get past her first, a task she clearly planned on making as difficult as possible.

"We found a way round those defences," Grimla said dismissively. Then, at a silent signal from her, several of the Mutants and Lunatacs behind her held up fragments of marble, all of which were glowing with a fierce light. For a moment, I wondered where I had seen that light before, but, then, I remembered. When Koris had held his piece of the Statue of Omens close to the one held by the Berbils, both pieces had glowed. That could only mean . . .

"Asssss you can sssssee," Lizarius hissed, gesturing towards the glowing fragment, "we have obtained ssssseveral more fragmentssssss of the Ssssssstatue of Omensssss. And we have embued them with evil magic, magic which will allow usssssss to call forth Mumm-Ra even while the Book of Omenssssss remainsssssss intact!"

"Ha!" I shouted before I could stop myself. "If you're still missing some of the pieces, your plan can't possibly work!"

Lizarius's sharp ears soon picked me out from among the crowd. "Ssssssso, Ssssssssstorm of Thundera," he said, walking towards me and prodding me under the chin with his claw so that I was forced to look him directly in the eye. "You've causssssed usssss a great deal of trouble. Now, for the lasssssst time, where did you hide your fragment?!"

Well, that was one bit of information I had no intention of revealing, certainly not to Lizarius; I had sworn on the Code of Thundera that I would never tell anyone from the Cult of Mumm-Ra where my piece of the Statue had been concealed. And swearing on the Code of Thundera was the most sacred oath a Thundercat could make; breaking it was absolutely forbidden. There seemed to be only one way out of this.

"We'll have to make a fight of it," I told my father, drawing level with him.

* * *

We quickly drew up our plans. Lynxari and two of Kayon's men would take the non-combatants (namely Koris, the Berbils and the Brutemen) to the Feliner III and try to get them away from Third Earth. Though, if the rest of us were unable to hold the Cult back, even this might not be enough to save them. Everyone else would fight, including myself. My mother had wanted me to escape with the others who were heading back to the Feliner III, but I refused to hear of it. As a future Lord of the Thundercats, I needed to get as much combat experience as possible; weapons practice with Pumar was all very well, but there was no substitute for the real thing. In the end, my father relented. "He has to fight his first real battle some time," he told my mother, unsheathing the Sword of Omens.

Icelia presented a different problem. None of us knew if we could really trust her in this battle and we didn't want to risk sending her with the non-combatants in case she tried something there. Eventually, however, we agreed that she should remain under the careful eye of Kayon, who would do everything he could to ensure that she didn't try to join the other side. If she was even on our side to begin with . . . Although, when I thought about it, I had never seen any Ice Lunatacs among the Cult of Mumm-Ra, so there might just be some truth in the story Icelia had told when she first contacted me. Even so, I would remain wary until she proved she could be trusted.

Tense moments passed, during which I found myself thinking about my childhood - the games I had played with Hunter, the lessons I had spent longing to do something more exciting than study, listening to Wilykit's stories. Then, my thoughts were interupted by an assortment of voices all bellowing one word:

"AAAATTTTTTAAAAACCCCCCKKKKK!"


	13. Chapter 13

****

Chapter Thirteen

The two armies clashed with a mighty roar, each determined to defeat the other. I felt the blood pounding in my temples as I raced towards the enemy, the Cult of Mumm-Ra; this was what my whole life had been leading towards, my first battle - and hopefully the first of many. But I knew that, as a Thundercat, I could not attack wantonly; the Code of Thundera was clear on that point. A Thundercat may only fight in order to defend the weak and ensure that evil cannot gain too great a hold anywhere.

Anyway, I was soon in the thick of battle, grappling with a young Reptilian Mutant. He was probably not much older than I was, but I did not think too much about this at the time; all I saw was another enemy, another member of the Cult of Mumm-Ra. Wielding a dagger which Tia had given me just before our army made its charge, I fought the young Reptilian, using my dagger to parry the blows he delivered with his own blade. All the while, I was careful to keep clear of his tail; even though he was not quite full grown, I knew his tail would still be a pretty powerful weapon.

Around me, the rest of my allies fought. I glimpsed Tia and her Warrior Maidens (Jaya among them) battling a squad of Jackal Mutants with deadly efficiency, sending several Jackals yelping out of range of the stone the Warrior Maidens fired from their slings. And my parents were fighting back-to-back, in a pose which suggested that, if it came to it, they meant to fall together. I prayed that wouldn't happen, though; not only would it leave me an orphan, it would mean I would have to become Lord of the Thundercats a lot sooner than I had expected.

But I did not have time to think about this at that moment. I had to fight, fight to defend the Code of Thundera, fight to stop the Cult of Mumm-Ra from spreading its evil.

* * *

Jaya, her axe drawn, fought her way over to me. "Storm," she said, breathing heavily, "have you seen Icelia?"

I shook my head. The battle had been going on for some time now and I hadn't seen the Ice Lunatac since it started. And nor, it seemed, had Jaya. We still didn't know if we could trust Icelia and that worried me. For all we knew, she was still in the battle, but fighting on the side of the Cult . . . I was startled out of my thoughts when a blast of energy knocked me off my feet and looked up to see that a Psy Lunatac had hit me with his mental powers. I recognised him; it was Psychon, who was clearly adept at mental combat as well as what Grimla had called Concealment and Masking.

Grimla herself was further back, away from the thick of the fighting. I wasn't surprised - after all, I had already seen enough of her to know that mental power was her forte - but it worried me nonetheless. Something - I can't explain what - told me she must be planning something. But what? I had no way of knowing and, besides, my current priority was avoiding Psychon's attacks. I picked myself up and turned to face him, trying to remember the lessons Pumar had taught me. But Pumar's lessons had been based around an opponent who used physical combat, not one who could knock you off your feet with a single thought.

As he made to attack me again, I decide to try dodging. Perhaps, if I could avoid his energy blasts, I would be able to counterattack, not that a simple dagger was likely to be much use . . . For a moment, I wished I still had my chakram, but I'd lost it when the Cult captured me and it had never been recovered. I had to make the best of what I had.

Psychon raised his hands above his head, preparing to blast me with psychic energy. I quickly assessed which direction he was going to aim, then quickly dodged in the opposite direction. He looked taken aback when he struck nothing but empty air, but quickly recovered. "Clever," he told me. "But not clever enough." He pointed at me again and something which looked like a glowing purple rope shot out of his hand and coiled around my ankle before I had time to think. I struggled and kicked, but to no avail; it was as if the "rope" tightened every time I moved.

"I have him!" Psychon shouted triumphantly. I closed my eyes in despair, instinctively knowing who he meant by "him" - me. Right then, I had no idea what was happening around me, no idea where my fellow Thundercats were. All I could think was that a momentary lapse had led to my being caught by the Cult of Mumm-Ra for a third time.

That was my last thought before something small and sharp pricked my arm, causing me to collapse unconscious.

* * *

When I woke up, I was lying on a hard table with three horribly familiar faces looking down at me, the faces of Lizarius, Grimla and the female Reptilian called Karsa. And they all had triumphant smirks on their faces, which could only mean bad news for me. And what had happened to my parents and the others? It seemed to me that things were going from bad to worse, that we were all caught up in a nightmare from which there was little hope of escape.

"Ssssso you are awake, Thunderbrat," Lizarius said, leaning closer to me.

"What did you do to me?" I demanded hoarsely. I longed to spit in his ugly Reptilian face, but my mouth felt as dry as a desert. I had no way of knowing how long I had been out, but I guessed it must have been a few hours at least; nor did I have any way of knowing what had happened to everyone else who had been fighting the Cult of Mumm-Ra.

"A ssssleep dart." It was Karsa who spoke this time, moving sinuously around the table as she spoke. "And, now, you will reveal where you hid your fragment of the Ssssssstatue!" she added, hissing menacingly.

"You already know my answer to that!" I retorted. "I would rather die than tell you!" I glared at my three enemies, two Reptilian Mutants and one Psy Lunatac, daring them to do whatever they liked to me. It wouldn't make any difference; I would never tell them what they wanted to know. And, if Grimla tried her mind-probing powers again . . .

"Ah," Lizarius said. "But would you allow your fellow Thundercatssssss to die becausssse of your stubbornnesssss?"

"What do you mean by that?" I asked, trying to stall for time.

"Ssssssimple," replied Lizarius. "We have a Doomssssssday Misssssile trained on New Thundera. And, unlessssss you tell usssssss what we want to know, we shall fire that Misssssssile and New Thundera will be no more! Choossssse, Thunderbrat!"

I closed my eyes in despair. Icelia had told me that a Doomsday Missile had destroyed the Ice Moon of Plundarr, not that I was entirely convinced she had been telling the truth. But I knew enough about Doomsday Missiles to know that any planet caught in the path of one would be reduced to space dust in a matter of seconds. If the Cult of Mumm-Ra had their way, the Thundercats would lose their home planet for a second time - and, this time, there would be no escape for those on the planet. When Old Thundera was destroyed, the population had fled into space, but they had had plenty of advance warning, enough to allow them to plan the evacuation months before it became necessary to leave. There would be no time for any of that if the Doomsday Missile was launched.

I wrestled with my dilemma. Should I keep silent and allow my home planet to be destroyed, or should I reveal the information the Cult wanted and betray the promise I had made to Wilykit?

* * *

"I ssssssee you need sssssome persssssuading," Lizarius said when I hadn't spoken for several seconds. "In that cassssssse . . ." He turned to Grimla, who had been observing the proceedings in silence. "Ssshow him!" he ordered. "Sssshow him what will happen if he refussssesss to talk!"

With an expression which matched her name, Grimla pointed to the nearby wall and began to project images onto it. I saw New Thundera, the world where I had been born and brought up, hanging in space. Then, I saw a huge missile heading directly for the planet; it hit and exploded with a blinding flash which completed whited out the image Grimla was projecting. When the explosion faded, there was nothing left of New Thundera except rubble floating in space. "No . . ." I whispered, my voice choked. In that moment, I understood how those who had witnessed the destruction of Old Thundera must have felt.

"You sssssee?" Lizarius hissed. "If you don't tell what we want to know, we will launch the Doomsssssday Missssile and desssstroy your misssserable planet!"

"The Missile is already primed," Grimla added. "All we need to do is press the button and New Thundera is finished!"

I wrestled with my conscience. Should I tell them what they wanted to know, thereby allowing them to win? Or should I remain silent and sacrifice my home planet? But, in the end, there was no contest; several of my fellow Thundercats were still on New Thundera and no Thundercat will ever sacrifice any of their own. "Then I have no choice," I said flatly. "I - I'll talk."

"Ah! Ssssenssssible boy," said Lizarius, a triumphant gleam in his eyes. "Continue."

"My piece of the Statue of Omens," I said, forcing each word out, "is in Cats' Lair. But I'm the only one who knows precisely where . . ." I broke off and waited to see what my captors would do next. I hated having to reveal information that I knew would help the Cult, but I did not want to see New Thundera destroyed. I was a traitor, but what other choice was there?

"Then you must take us there," Grimla said. "And, in case you have any ideas about escaping, Gravlok will be coming with us."

* * *

I don't remember much about what happened immediately after that. Perhaps Grimla put me under some sort of hypnotic influence to make absolutely certain that I would co-operate, but I don't know for certain. Whatever happened, all I have now are vague recollections of being led to Cats' Lair, of bringing the Statue fragment Wilykit gave me out from its hiding place, of handing it over to Lizarius. But none of those memories are very clear; in fact, they are "as clear as thick mud", to use Snarf Emala's expression.

My next clear memory is of being shoved into a dank cell and the door being slammed in my face, plunging me into darkness. As the key was turned in the lock, I slumped down on the floor. It looked like it was all over; the Cult now had all the pieces of the Statue. I had struggled to keep them from getting their hands on the piece I had been given, but, like the others who had been entrusted with them, I had failed.

And, now, it looked like there was nothing that could stop the Cult from carrying out their mission and freeing Mumm-Ra. Once the Statue fragments were destroyed, all that would remain was to release him from the Book of Omens. I knew the Book could not easily be penetrated, but that wouldn't help if it was destroyed - and destroyed it surely would be if the Cult of Mumm-Ra had their way. Then, Mumm-Ra would be free, free to wreak havoc once again. And the Thundercats were sure to be among his first targets; having failed to defeat them eighty years ago and having been imprisoned in the Book of Omens by my great-grandfather, he was bound to be out for revenge.

And what had happened to everyone else? Had they been captured as well and, if so, where were they? What plans did Lizarius have for them? These questions and countless others chased themselves round my head as I crouched in that dark cell. But there was no answer to any of them, at least none that might have offered me at least a small amount of hope.

My thoughts then turned to Lynxari, who was attempting to take Koris, the Berbils and the Brutemen to safety in the Feliner III. I recalled how my mother had wanted me to escape as well, only for me to refuse because I felt I needed the chance to prove myself in battle, that I was too old to be treated like a child. Well, my first real taste of battle had ended with me being captured and forced to reveal vital information to our enemies. I sighed; it felt as though everything was collapsing around me and there was nothing I - or anyone else - could do to stop it.

* * *

Suddenly, I became aware of a faint light in the corner. It was too dim to see by, but it was definitely there, a white glow in a darkened cell. But where had it come from? There had been no lights in this cell when I was thrust into it and no-one had come in to provide any illumination; they probably thought I wouldn't have any use for light soon anyway. Nevertheless, it was there, glowing faintly in an otherwise completely dark cell. So where had it come from? What could have caused it to appear?

Slowly, the light grew brighter, allowing me to see again. I had no idea how long I had been in this cell, but it can't have been long because I found that my eyes did not need all that much time to adjust to the light. But there was something strange about it, something otherworldly . . . I can't quite put it into words, but I had a feeling that it somehow did not belong to this realm, that it had come from . . . somewhere else.

I shivered, but not because the cell was cold. It was that light that made me shiver; I can't explain why, but it unnerved me. And that was pretty rare for me. Perhaps all the things that had been happening lately were starting to get to me; after all, even a Thundercat can only endure so much. I found myself staring at the light, not that there was much else to look at in my cell - apart from the door and four blank walls.

Gradually, I noticed that the light was changing, morphing into a humanoid shape. I saw a head, a torso, two arms and two legs, but no identifying details. These, however, soon emerged, revealing an elderly female Thunderian dressed in a long gown bearing a Thundercat insignia, a distinctive stripe down the centre of her hair. I recognised her immediately - until recently, she had been a part of my life for as long as I could remember - but how could she be here now?

"Wilykit?" I whispered, not sure whether I could believe what my eyes were seeing.


	14. Chapter 14

****

Chapter Fourteen

None of the things that had happened to me had prepared me for what I was seeing now. It seemed that the spirit form of a dead Thundercat elder had appeared before me, but I could hardly believe it was true. Nevertheless, there was no denying that whatever had manifested itself in my cell resembled Wilykit; I had known her all my life and there was no mistaking her.

"Wilykit?" I said again. "Are you a . . .?" I wanted to say the word "ghost", but, for some unknown reason, I found myself unable to do so.

"I am a visitor from the Netherworld," Wilykit replied. "And I'm here to tell you that time is short - the Cult of Mumm-Ra must be stopped."

"I know that!" I snapped back. "But what are we supposed to do? You're dead, I'm a prisoner and the Cult probably have that piece of the Statue of Omens you gave me by now." The whole situation looked hopeless. I had tried so hard to keep the Cult from getting their hands on my fragment of the Statue, but I had failed. Grimla and Lizarius had forced me to reveal where I had hidden it. But what choice did I have? If I hadn't told my captors what they wanted to know, they would have launched the Doomsday Missile and . . .

"There is one thing that might give us a chance," Wilykit replied. "A special power which the Sword of Omens possesses." As I looked at her blankly, she elaborated on what she had just said. "The Eye of Thundera can absorb the spirits of those who have wielded the Sword, greatly increasing its powers."

"How do you know that?" I asked, a note of scepticism in my voice. "I'm a future Lord of the Thundercats and no-one ever mentioned it to me."

Wilykit laughed slightly. "As you reminded me, I am dead. And, in the Netherworld, I can learn many secrets. Not only that, I once read of a time when this power was used before. Long ago, when Jaga was a young boy, the then Lord of the Thundercats called on the spirits of his predecessors to aid him in battle when all seemed lost. And those spirits entered the Eye of Thundera and . . ."

"I think I get the idea," I said, cutting her off in mid sentence. "So you think it'll work again?"

"If I can persuade enough spirits to agree, it should."

I would have questioned Wilykit further, but she chose that precise moment to vanish, leaving no sign that she had ever been present.

* * *

Left alone in my cell, I sat down and thought things over. I had been told that the Eye of Thundera had many amazing powers, but I'd never known it could absorb the spirits of those who had wielded it. Then again, from what Wilykit had said, the last time that had happened was long out of living memory; I'd been told Jaga was already an old man when Old Thundera was destroyed. Nonetheless, if it had been done before, I was certain it could be done again. The situation the Thundercats were currently in was certainly dire enough to require drastic action.

The only trouble was, how could this plan be carried out? I was a prisoner, with no way of knowing where my father was or what had happened to him. As the current Lord of the Thundercats, he should be the one to channel my ancestors through the Sword. But, if he had been captured, I knew he was highly unlikely to still have the Sword about his person; the Cult of Mumm-Ra would know it well enough by now to know that it was an immensely powerful weapons. And you don't leave immensely powerful weapons in the hands of your enemies.

And, even if my father was still free, how would I be able to get word to him? There was no way I would be able to escape from here by myself; the Cult of Mumm-Ra had the place too well guarded. No, it looked as though this would be one of those times where the good guys didn't win. It wouldn't be long before the Cult had found and destroyed all the pieces of the Statue and, when that happened . . .

Just then, my thoughts were interupted by the sound of a key in the door. The next thing I knew, the door was flung open and I saw Lizarius standing outside my cell, flanked by Grimla and Jacklon. "Congratulationsssssss, Thunderbrat," Lizarius hissed at me. "You have given ussssss the meansssss to ensssssure our triumph!"

For once, I ignored the fact that he had called me "Thunderbrat" yet again. "How have I done that?" I asked, keeping my tone of voice strictly neutral.

This time, it was Grimla who spoke. "Simple - when I showed you that false vision, I knew it would make you co-operate. That's one good thing about do-gooder races like you Thundercats; threaten to harm those close to them and they'll do whatever you want."

"You mean . . ." I paused. " . . . there never was a Doomsday missile trained on New Thundera?" I could hardly believe it. Had I betrayed Wilykit's trust for nothing? Was the image I had been shown of New Thundera being destroyed really just an illusion? I did not know, but what I did know was that, because of what the Cult had threatened to do to my planet, I had handed them my piece of the Statue. And I had fought so hard to keep them from getting hold of it.

"No," Grimla replied. "That was a lie to trick you into co-operating with us." She turned to Lizarius. "I think it's time."

"Yesssss," Lizarius agreed. "Bring him!"

* * *

Once more, I found myself being led towards the temple I had been brought to not long after I was first captured by the Cult. As I arrived, the first thing I saw was that the entire Cult seemed to be assembled here - and that wasn't all. Packed together in a frightened huddle, I saw several Third Earthlings, all with looks of abject despair on their faces. And one of them was a Wollo who looked uncannily like an older version of Koris; indeed, the resemblence was so striking that I did not need anyone to tell me that this was Lannal, the Wollo I had spoken to through a hole in the wall dividing our cells.

However, I did not have time to catch his eye before I was forced to the front of the throng and made to kneel on the ground. Lizarius took up his position in front of the crowd, facing them. Once again, he was wearing his ceremonial outfit - the wraparound skirt with a gold belt, the red cloak fastened with a buckle decorated with the image of a two-headed snake, a headdress bearing the same design as the buckle. He stepped forward, raising his arms.

"Memberssss of the Cult of Mumm-Ra," he proclaimed, "the hour of our triumph issss at hand. We have obtained all the fragmentsssss of the Ssssstatue and imbued them with evil magic, magic that will allow usssss to free Mumm-Ra from hissss imprissssonment in the Book of Omensssss!"

Even faced with this seemingly hopeless situation, I still had a spark of defiance. "How do you plan to do that?" I demanded. "There are only two means of accessing the Book and my parents keep both of them. So whatever you're planning to do won't work!"

Lizarius glared at me. "Sssstill assss rebellioussssss assss ever. Well, Thunderbrat, the magic we ussssed issss far ssssstronger than your puny defencesssss! Behold!" With that, he pulled something out of the folds of his skirt and held it aloft. I craned my neck to see what he was holding, then caught my breath. It was the fragment of the Statue which Wilykit had entrusted to me, but it was glowing with a light that I could only describe as evil. Seeing this, all I could feel was a dark despair. Had I, a future Lord of the Thundercats, truly failed in my duty to fight against evil? Had I just handed the Cult the means of freeing Mumm-Ra right on a platter?

I did not have long to think about this, however, before Lizarius began to chant. "Mumm-Ra, come! Mumm-Ra, come!" And, as he repeated those two words over and over, others in the crowd also produced pieces of the Statue, all of them bearing that same evil glow, and took up the chant.

"Mumm-Ra, come! Mumm-Ra, come! Mumm-Ra, come!"

* * *

As the infernal chanting continued, a thought occured to me. The Cult thought they had all the pieces of the Statue, but they were missing two - and that could make all the difference. The Brutemen still had theirs; they had taken it with them when Lynxari and two of Kayon's men took them, the Berbils and Koris away from Third Earth. As did Icelia, though I still wasn't sure if she could be trusted. Still, if the Cult didn't have all the fragments, it might make all the difference.

"Or perhaps not," I murmured, as a terrible thunder rent the air and dark clouds suddenly descended on this very spot. Seconds later, I received a harsh blow from the Reptilian Mutant behind me.

"Sssssilence!" he hissed. "Show sssssome resssspect for our ssssssacred ritual!"

"And, now," Lizarius said, looking up at the darkened sky, "it issss time for the Offeringsssss!" With that, he pointed imperiously to two trembling Bolkins who crouched, trembling, in the crowd of captive Third Earthlings. They clung to each other desperately, but were soon forced apart as two Psy Lunatacs grabbed them and hauled them to the front. For a moment, I wondered what role these simple folk could be about to play in this ritual, but, as they were forced to kneel on the ground and one of the Jackal Mutants handed Lizarius a huge two-headed axe, it all became horribly clear.

"No!" I cried. But it wasn't like I could stop Lizarius now; all I could do was close my eyes tightly and pray that I would be the next "Offering". That way, at least I would be spared hearing the deaths of too many innocent beings.

* * *

But, just when it seemed that all was lost, I heard the collective shout of a charging army advancing on the enemy. Opening my eyes, I saw the entire population of the Refuge (those who had stayed to fight, at least) advancing on the assembled Cult, my father, Tia and Kayon in the lead. Moving as one, they launched themselves at the assembled Mutants and Lunatacs, who seemed to be totally unprepared for the assault. All, that is, except Lizarius . . .

"Ssssso," he hissed, "the cavalry hasssssss come, hasssss it? Well, you're too late! Mumm-Ra isssss already freed from hisssss prissssson and will shortly dessscend to Third Earth!" He gestured towards the sky, where a humanoid form was being to emerge from the clouds which had formed above this spot. Slowly, it descended to the ground, becoming steadily clearer as it did so, until a blue-skinned being with glowing red eyes emerged. On its chest was a design in the form of a two-headed snake on a red background, the same design that was on Lizarius's ceremonial robes.

Though I had never seen this being before, I needed no-one to tell me who he was. "Mumm-Ra!" I whispered, my eyes transfixed on the . . . thing that was descending from the sky. Everything about him spoke of an all-consuming evil, of a soul which lived only to conquer and oppress. Until now, I had had no idea what Mumm-Ra looked like and had imagined all sorts of horrors, but the reality was far worse. Imagine that all the demons of your childhood have combined to form one ultimate demon, more evil than all the others put together. That would be Mumm-Ra.

Then, he spoke and, for the first time in over eighty years, his evil voice was heard on Third Earth. "At last! I am free!" He looked down at the Mutants and Lunatacs who made up the Cult of Mumm-Ra. "As my loyal followers, you shall be the ones to police my new regime. And the first order of business will be doing what I failed to do eighty years ago - rid Third Earth of these infernal Thundercats!"

* * *

But my fellow Thundercats were not about to be taken without a fight and nor were their allies, who, I now noticed, included beings that had not been present in the Refuge. Tall, powerfully built humanoids dressed in thick furs and riding on giant cats with snow white fur charged towards the assembled Mutants and Lunatacs, together with an assortment of humans and Thunderians. Glancing up, I saw several dragon-like creatures circling round, all ridden by creatures which looked like anthropomorphic walruses.

Tia, at the head of the contingent of Warrior Maidens, was brandishing her spear as she led her Maidens into battle, Kayon's men charging alongside them. From the opposite side, the Thundercats charged towards their foes, weapons drawn ready to fight. My parents, Lord Feleo and Lady Amber; Pumar, our weapons master; Ocelotra, bold and outspoken; Fangelo, the first Sabretooth to hold the rank of Thundercat since Grune betrayed the Code of Thundera and was exiled into space . . . With a collective roar, they launched themselves at the Mutants and Lunatacs who had freed the being they had long hoped was consigned to the realms of history.

"So," Mumm-Ra said, smiling evilly as he looked down at the advancing army, "you choose to defy Mumm-Ra. Very well, it shall be the last mistake any of you ever make!" With that, he raised his arms, his hands crackling with magical energy. A ball of pure white energy formed in his hands, glowing and pulsing. Then, he took aim and hurled it in the direction of my fellow Thundercats; they barely managed to dodge it, but became scattered in the process.

However, they quickly regrouped and launched themselves at the Cult once more. I wished I could do something to help, but I was still a prisoner; my hands were tied behind my back and I was weaponless. Nonetheless, I felt I had to at least try to help, so, taking advantage of the fact that my legs were still free, I kicked out at the nearest Cult member, a Jackal Mutant, knocking him to the ground. The next thing I felt was a pat on my shoulder. "Good going, young Storm," I heard Pumar's voice say.

I managed to smile. "Thanks. Now, could you get these bonds off?"

"No problem." It only took Pumar a few seconds to cut through my bonds, allowing me to get into the battle. For only the second time in my young life, I felt my warrior's blood rising, knew the overwhelming urge to fight the forces of evil. But, as I prepared to charge into the fray, a thought occured to me.

"What about the Cult's prisoners?" I asked, recalling how Koris, Jaya and I had tried, without success, to free them. Now, those innocents whom the Cult had made their prisoners and had, I now realised, planned to sacrifice as part of their diabolical plan to free Mumm-Ra were in danger of being caught in the crossfire. Someone would have to get them out of harm's way. But, the way things were going, it looked like that would be a tall order. Nonetheless, something had to be done; the Code of Thundera would not permit Thundercats to fight if it meant endangering the lives of innocents.

"You're right, Storm," Pumar agreed, as if sensing what I was thinking. "They're nearly all Wollos and Bolkins, beings not used to fighting." He caught the eye of three of Kayon's men and pointed to each of them in turn. "You, you and you, take the Cult's prisoners and try to get them clear of this spot."

Though what good that would do with Mumm-Ra freed and out for revenge was anybody's guess.

* * *

Mumm-Ra, meanwhile, was charging up to launch another of his energy blasts. Once more, the ball of pure white energy was forming in his hands, but this time it seemed to be getting bigger and bigger. Soon, it was so big that I needed no-one to tell me that, if it was launched, it could wipe out every living thing in range - unless it could somehow be stopped. And the only one present who might have the means of doing so was my father, the current bearer of the Sword of Omens; the mystic blade just might have the power to deflect Mumm-Ra's energy blast and send it right back at him.

But my father was currently occupied with fighting a trio of Reptilian Mutants, including Lizarius, and did not seem to have noticed the greater threat of Mumm-Ra. I had to warn him, but, even as I turned and headed in his direction, Mumm-Ra prepared to launch his energy blast. And, as I had no Cheetah blood in me, there was no way I would be able to reach my father in time.

It was all over.


	15. Chapter 15

****

Chapter Fifteen

Things were way past desperate. Somehow, despite that fact that they had not managed to obtain every piece of the Statue of Omens, the Cult of Mumm-Ra had succeeded in freeing the evil being they worshipped as a god. And he was out for revenge against the Thundercats and all those allied with them; already, I could see that the ball of energy he had formed in his hands was so large that, if it was unleashed, Third Earth would be finished. Not that it would matter to anyone in the immediate vicinity - they'd all get vaporised in the initial explosion.

I found myself wondering what it would feel like to be vaporised, to be literally reduced to nothing faster than you could say: "Thundercats, ho!" The thought was too terrible to contemplate, so I turned my attention to trying to figure out a way out of this, a way of stopping Mumm-Ra before he could unleash his final, destructive attack. But, like I said before, the only one present who might have some sort of chance against such power was my father, the bearer of the Sword of Omens, and he had not yet noticed the danger.

Though I knew there was little chance of me reaching him in time, I turned and started to run in my father's direction. If I managed to get there before Mumm-Ra unleashed his energy ball, I would be able to warn my father and he would be able to use the Sword's powers to deflect the energy. He might even be able to do that thing Wilykit's spirit told me about, channeling the spirits of the Thundercats who had previously wielded the Sword through the Eye of Thundera. However, if I couldn't . . .

My thoughts were abruptly cut off as Mumm-Ra launched his energy ball and the entire landscape was swallowed up by an overwhelmingly white light.

* * *

I woke up slowly, feeling as though every cell in my body was on fire. For a moment, I struggled to recall what had happened, how I came to be lying on the ground, then it came to me. "Mumm-Ra," I said out loud, recalling how the being I had previously only known through stories had . . . The realisation made me stop with a start. Mumm-Ra had unleashed an energy ball so powerful that nothing caught within its radius could possibly have survived. But, if that was the case, why could I still think and feel? And what would I see if I opened my eyes?

There was only one way to find out. I slowly lifted my eyelids to find myself looking directly into Wilykit's face. But she seemed somehow . . . different from when she had appeared before me in the cells at Castle Plundarr. Then she had appeared ghostly and ethereal, the echo of a life now past. Now, however, she looked as solid and alive as . . . Wait, did that mean . . .?

"Am I dead?" I asked, thinking even as I said it that it was probably a ridiculous question.

Wilykit shook her head. "No, Storm, you are still in the world of the living."

"But how . . .?" I broke off, struggling to take in what she had just told me. By all rights, I should be dead, blown to pieces by the energy blast Mumm-Ra had unleashed. And what about everyone else who had been involved in the battle, both friend and foe? What had happened to them?

"Remember what I told you in Castle Plundarr?" Wilykit asked. "About the Eye of Thundera?"

"Yes, something about being able to absorb the spirits of those who have wielded the Sword of Omens." I remembered the moment Wilykit had said those words, words which seemed to offer hope in the midst of a hopeless situation. But, in the thick of battle, I had been unable to reach my father to tell him; I hadn't even been able to warn him what Mumm-Ra was about to do.

"That's right," Wilykit replied, nodding her head in approval. "And it was clear that the battle was not going our . . . your way, so I materialised before you father and told him what he had to do." As she said those words, I realised with a jolt that this must be the first time the spirit of a dead Thundercat had appeared to a living Thundercat Lord since the days when Jaga used to appear before my great-grandfather to offer him advice and guidance. "So," Wilykit went on, "when Mumm-Ra unleashed his energy blast, your father was able to draw on the power of all your ancestors to create a forcefield around all the Thundercats present and every one of their allies."

So that was how I had survived; the forcefield must have protected me, must have protected everyone it had surrounded. But, then, another question occured to me. "What happened to Mumm-Ra?" I asked, recalling how he had been hovering over the battle, ready to unleash his coup de grace.

"No-one knows," Wilykit told me. "But there's something else you should know. When the forcefield deflected Mumm-Ra's energy, it set off a chain reaction which set the whole of Third Earth on fire."

* * *

Wilykit's words echoed in my mind. The whole of Third Earth on fire . . . The idea of an entire planet burning was almost too enormous to grasp, even though, from what I'd been told, something similar had happened to this planet on two previous occasions. And what had happened to everyone? My fellow Thundercats, Queen Tia and her Warrior Maidens and all the other races who had united to fight the Cult of Mumm-Ra . . . Were they all - I hardly dared to think the last word - safe?

"The . . . the others?" I stammered at last. "What happened to them?"

"They are safe, Storm," was all Wilykit said, before she vanished into thin air, leaving me with my head swimming with unanswered and unanswerable questions.

Looking back, I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised that my fellow Thundercats were safe; after all, I'd been told that the Sword of Omens would never allow them or anyone allied with them to be harmed, least of all by something caused by the greatest enemy the Thundercats had ever known. The forcefield which protected me must have protected everyone else as well. At the time, however, I did not have time to think about this; all I could think about was Wilykit's news that Mumm-Ra's deflected energy blasts had caused Third Earth to burn. They must have been even stronger than I had thought . . .

Just then, my thoughts were cut off as the door opened and my parents entered the room. I had not yet taken stock of my surroundings, but now I did. The room I was in appeared to be underground, or at least windowless, since there was no natural light coming in; the only light source, which I hadn't registered when I first woke up, was the torch in a nearby wall bracket.

As my parents drew closer to me, I sat up and looked at them. They both looked the same as ever - my mother, beautiful and elegant, and my father, strong and confident. Yet, there was something in the expression on their faces, something I couldn't quite explain. However, something told me it had to do with what Wilykit had told me earlier about Third Earth having burned. But, if that was true . . .

"Where am I?" I asked, unsure what the answer would be.

My mother sat down beside me, as my father stood behind her. "Back in the Refuge," she told me. "We fled here after Mumm-Ra . . ." And she repeated the story of how, just when it seemed the battle was lost, my father had called on the spirits of our ancestors, allowing him to use the Sword of Omens to generate a forcefield so powerful that it not only protected every Thundercat and Thundercat ally present, but triggered a chain reaction when it deflected Mumm-Ra's energy blast. But I already knew all this from what Wilykit had told me.

* * *

However, there was one question which remained unresolved. "What about the Cult?" I asked my father. Not that I really cared what happened to the Mutants and Lunatacs who had caused us so much trouble; I was asking mainly to satisfy my own curiousity. I already knew (or, at least, I had guessed) what had happened to me; I must have blacked out for some reason and someone must have carried me when everyone fled back to the Refuge, which had fortunately not been completely demolished in the earthquake the Cult had caused earlier. However, a number of passages leading deeper into the underground complex were now impassable.

"We think a lot of them managed to find shelter," my father replied. "Kayon's out there with some of his men right now, rounding them up for transportation to the Penal Planet."

"What's it like?" I asked next. "Outside?" I tried to imagine what Third Earth would look like now that Mumm-Ra's energy blasts had set the entire planet on fire, but I'd never seen destruction on such a scale. Therefore, I had no idea what I would find if I ventured outside, no idea what scenes of devastation would await me. However, Wilykit might have been able to give me a rough idea had she still been here; she had been among those who fled the destruction of Old Thundera, so, though she had only been a girl at the time, she knew what planetary cataclysms were like.

"Very grim," was all my father said. He looked down at the Sword of Omens for a moment. "Storm," he added, "there's something you ought to know. When Wilykit appeared before me and told me I could use the Sword to call on the spirits of our ancestors, I had no idea what the result would be. Even now, I don't know precisely what happened, but my guess is that Mumm-Ra had built up so much energy that even he couldn't contain it. So, when the Sword deflected it . . ." He left the last sentence unfinished, but I could guess what he was about to say.

* * *

For the next few days, I was confined to the Refuge, with no way of knowing precisely what conditions were like outside; when I asked, all anyone would say was that it was "grim" or some other uninformative word. However, I never once considered sneaking out to see for myself. I'd left the Refuge when I'd specifically been told not to once before and the result had, to say the least, not been the one I'd hoped for.

During this time, Kayon and his men were kept busy hunting down the Cult of Mumm-Ra, many of whom had been scattered in the confusion caused by the cataclysm that had been unleashed. When any of them were caught, Kayon would radio for a prison transport ship which would come to pick the prisoners up and transport them to the Penal Planet - almost invariably on a one-way ticket. The female Reptilian, Karsa, was among the first to be caught; when she was loaded onto the prison ship, she defiantly shouted that the Cult of Mumm-Ra would not be broken. I did not witness this, of course, but I did later hear two of Kayon's men talking about it.

Mumm-Ra himself remained unaccounted for, but we all had an uneasy feeling that we had not seen the last of him, that he was waiting to finish the job he had started. And, if he did show up again, we would be in for serious trouble, especially since the Cult had somehow found a way round the defences in both the Book and the Statue of Omens. I was reminded of something Pumar had once said, something about the most dangerous enemy being the one who hides, though I didn't fully understand it at the time; I was only just eleven when he said that and thought the most dangerous enemy was the one who launches an all out attack with every weapon at their disposal fully primed.

However, experience had taught me that there was a great deal of truth in Pumar's words. The enemy who hides could be biding their time, waiting for the right moment to strike. And, with an enemy as dangerous as Mumm-Ra, there was no telling when or where that would be, so we had to be on guard at all times.

* * *

After nearly a week, I was getting tired of all this sitting around and doing nothing. "Father," I said one evening, as the afternoon patrol (Fangelo, Queen Tia and two of the Warrior Maidens) checked in, "when are we going to do something about Mumm-Ra?"

He looked at me seriously. "We can't do anything until we know where he is," he told me. "Even then . . ."

"And, meanwhile, Mumm-Ra's building his power ready to have another crack at us!" I cut in, forgetting my manners for a moment. If Snarf Emala had been within earshot, she would have threatened to wash my mouth out with soap; she'd always been very strict about not interupting when others were talking. But she was back on New Thundera, looking after Lata, Sita, Sylvia, Tigon - and Hunter . . . I paused, thinking of the Ocelot boy who was my closest friend and whom I hadn't seen for some time. Nor had I had any contact with him since I was sent to Third Earth. If and when I got back to New Thundera, I would have a great deal to tell him about everything that had happened here.

" . . . it won't be easy," my father said, as if I hadn't spoken. "Mumm-Ra's a dangerous enemy, Storm. A very dangerous enemy."

"But, if he was vanquished once, surely he can be vanquished again." But, for the life of me, I couldn't think how it could be done. Mumm-Ra's followers may have been broken up and several of them may have been en route to the Penal Planet, but he himself remained a threat, a threat that had to be dealt with, preferably before he dealt with us.

"You're right, Storm," my father conceded. "The only trouble is we don't know how."

"Then we'll have to find a way, won't we?" My father and I looked at each other, both of us carrying the blood of generations of Thundercat Lords in our veins. "Isn't that what Lord Lion-O would have done?" I added, recalling everything I'd ever been told about my great-grandfather. His would be a hard legacy to live up to, but I was determined to do my best.

* * *

A day or so after my father and I had that conversation, we were all gathered together to arrange the day's patrols. I was not particularly interested in these meetings, as I knew I would invariably be left out on the grounds that I was "too young". So you can imagine my surprise when, in answer to the question of who was going on the mid-morning patrol, Kayon replied: "Ocelotra, Pumar, Jaya and Storm."

There was a stunned silence, which was only broken when my mother spoke up. "Are you sure there hasn't been a mistake? I thought we agreed Jaya and Storm were too young for these kinds of missions."

"No mistake, Lady Amber," Kayon assured her. "And, in case it's escaped your notice, Storm and Jaya are growing up. They can't stay sheltered in here forever, especially Storm. If he's to become Lord of the Thundercats, you must start treating him less like a child and more like the young man he'll be soon."

My mother sighed. "I guess I'm acting like all mothers," she said with a slight laugh, "wanting to protect my child for as long as possible. But you're probably right - Storm's no longer the child he was on New Thundera . . ." She paused to gather her thoughts. "Very well, my son can join the patrol, if my husband agrees."

My father slowly nodded his assent.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

The first thing I saw when I emerged from the Refuge was that everything was grey and lifeless. The once fertile world of Third Earth had turned into a wasteland as a result of the forces that had been unleashed in the battle against Mumm-Ra. Where I would once have seen lush, verdant forests or grasslands teeming with life, I now saw nothing . . . Nothing but an expanse of grey, broken only by the occasional stunted skeleton of a dead tree. I shuddered involuntarily; my father had told me it was grim outside, but I hadn't realised just how grim.

"It's like everything's dead," I heard Jaya remark beside me. Like me, she hadn't been outside the Refuge since our last battle and, as a result, she too had had no idea what to expect. She bent down and scooped up a handful of grey soil, letting it trickle through her fingers. Everywhere, as far as I could see, was grey now - grey and barren. I was just wondering if Third Earth would stay like this forever or life would return one day when I heard Pumar calling.

"Hey, Storm and Jaya, come on! We've got a lot of work to do!"

I couldn't help wondering what sort of work there was to do in this bleak landscape. As far as I could see, there was nothing living out here apart from ourselves: three Thundercats and a Warrior Maiden. But my father always said we could never be too careful, that we had to be sure every last member of the Cult of Mumm-Ra was rounded up. Until then, we would not be able to help the people of Third Earth rebuild.

But could this planet even be _called_ Third Earth anymore? There seemed to be almost nothing left of the world I had known, the world which had once offered the Thundercats sanctuary - of a sort. Now, all was gone - the verdant forests, the simple villages . . . everything had been swept away and all that remained was this bleak desolation. Jaya's remark that everything looked "dead" echoed in my mind as I hurried to join the others.

* * *

As we walked across the wastelands, I thought I heard a noise. I considered telling Pumar but decided not to, thinking he might dismiss it as "just my imagination". But, seconds later, I heard it again, slightly louder this time. Then, when I heard it a third time, I decided I could keep quiet about it no longer. Pumar would have to be told.

I hurried over to where he walked at the head of our group; Ocelotra was next in line and Jaya and I brought up the rear. "Pumar?" I ventured, tapping him on the shoulder.

He turned to look at me. "What is it, Storm?"

"Pumar," I said again, "I thought I heard something."

He paused to listen, then drew his weapon, signalling to the rest of us to do likewise. Tension pervaded the air and I wondered just what it was I had heard. Whatever it was, it was clear that Pumar was taking it seriously, though he could hardly be expected to do otherwise under our current circumstances. We were on a barren wasteland of a planet, on a mission to round up the Mutants and Lunatacs who had, until recently, belonged to the Cult of Mumm-Ra. And, while a significant number had been caught, many still remained at large. Mumm-Ra, however, was our biggest worry; he had been conspicuous by his absence lately, which probably meant he was trying to lull us into a false sense of security.

In any case, we moved cautiously, alert for the slightest sound, ready to defend ourselves if the need arose. As Thundercats, Pumar, Ocelotra and I were pledged not to fight unless it was absolutely necessary; that was part of the Code of Thundera, part of the laws which have shaped Thunderian culture. Jaya had her own code of honour; as a Warrior Maiden, she was pledged to defend the weak, to only take up weapons against a sentient life-form if it posed a threat.

But what was it that I had heard? I would soon receive my answer . . .

* * *

Rounding a rocky outcrop, we came across the source of the noise I had heard. A flock of birds was circling around as though they were searching for something; the sound that had caught my attention was the squawking cries they were making. And they had the look of scavengers about them, leading me to suspect that the thing they were looking for was carrion. In other words, something which was either dead or about to die. The thought made me feel a little queasy, but I pushed it to the back of my mind; as a future Lord of the Thundercats, I had to appear calm and in control at all times.

"Pumar, those birds!" I calling, pointing.

He looked in the direction I indicated. "Yes, we've seen them before," he told me. "In fact, they're the only living things we've seen lately - apart from members of the Cult, that is. I've asked the Third Earthlings about them, but none of them have seen birds like this before."

"Then they must have appeared after everything got burnt." I gestured round at the bleak grey landscape. "But where did they come from?"

"No-one knows, but we've been calling them the Doomsday Birds. We're all right as long as they stay in the sky, but, if they start to descend, that's the time to make a run for it." Pumar looked at Jaya and me seriously, then decided we were old enough to handle what he was about to tell us. "Storm, Jaya, if you don't get out of their way quickly, you're as good as dead on the spot. So keep your eyes on the sky and, if you see them start to fly lower, be ready to run. If you find a . . ." He broke off as the Doomsday Birds suddenly ceased their circling and began to descend. "Right! Run!" he ordered.

"Can't we fight them?" I asked, as Ocelotra and Jaya hurried to do as Pumar had ordered. After all, I thought to myself, the Thundercats were not supposed to run away like cowards; they were supposed to fight, no matter how overwhelming the odds. Besides, how dangerous could a flock of birds be?

"There are too many of them," Ocelotra said, urging me forward. "We wouldn't stand a chance. Besides, you've never seen those things in action - Pumar and I have."

Seconds later, a laser beam blasted the area where we had been only moments before. Except, there was nothing in the immediate vicinity that could fire a laser beam; no-one in our party was carrying a laser gun and the only other living things present were the Doomsday Birds. So where had the beam come from? I glanced back quickly and received my answer - one of the Birds had opened its beak and a powerful beam of red light shot out, narrowly missing Jaya. Clearly, these Doomsday Birds were not something to be taken lightly.

* * *

"What are we going to do?" Jaya asked as we continued to try and stay ahead of the Doomsday Birds. We had already been running for some time, but the fiends showed no signs of tiring and I wondered if they would keep chasing us forever. Not a very cheerful thought . . .

"What we always do when we encounter these things," Ocelotra replied. "Keep running!" But surely there was a better way than that; perhaps, if everyone in the Refuge worked together, we could find a way of defeating these deadly Birds. At least we could try; after all, there was no way we could keep running indefinitely. Not only that, but, if we were to help the Third Earthlings rebuild, we would have to find some means of dealing with this latest threat. I couldn't be sure, but I had a feeling Mumm-Ra was behind this somehow.

For now, though, all I could do was run, run from a flock of birds which came armed with laser beams. And, unless we could find a cave or a hollow, we stood no chance of evading these things; we were already quite a distance from the Refuge. I was beginning to understand why my mother had been so reluctant to allow Jaya and myself to be included in the patrol. The name Doomsday Birds was certainly an apt one; those laser beams looked like they could do some serious damage . . . A cry from just behind me caught my attention and I turned to see that Jaya had stumbled and fallen awkwardly. I hurried over to her. "Are you OK?" I asked as I knelt down beside her. "Can you get up?"

She struggled for a moment, then sank back down. "No . . . My ankle - I seem to have twisted it. You'll have to leave me. Run! Save yourself!" She looked at the Doomsday Birds, now hovering directly overhead.

"Not a chance," I told her. For one thing, the Code of Thundera would never allow a Thundercat, especially one destined to become Lord of the Thundercats, to abandon a friend in their hour of need. Jaya was my friend and I was not about to leave her to get blasted by these feathered freaks. I made to pick her up, determined that we would get out of this somehow - both of us. However, I found that she was heavier than I had expected and I could do nothing but shield her with my body as the nearest Doomsday Bird moved in to attack.

I screwed my eyes shut as the Bird fired its laser beam, not wanting to see what would happen if I was . . .

* * *

But the thing I was expecting to happen never happened. Instead, I heard the agonised squawk of a bird in pain, followed seconds later by the thump of something falling out of the sky. Curious, I opened my eyes to see just what had been responsible for the sounds I had just heard. What I saw was something I had, even with everything that had happened lately, never expected to see.

An Ice Lunatac was standing right in the path of the Doomsday Birds. It was a female and I recognised her immediately - it was Icelia, the Ice Lunatac who had contacted me on the way to Third Earth. Through all this time, I had never been entirely sure if she could be trusted and I wondered what she was up to now. All my life, I had heard stories about the time when the Mutants and Lunatacs were the sworn enemies of the Thundercats.

Suddenly, a bright blue beam shot out of Icelia's hands. It hit one of the Birds, sending it plummeting to the ground. I was stunned; it seemed Icelia was helping us, a Lunatac helping a Thundercat and a Warrior Maiden. Or was she? Was this apparent help just a ruse to get us to trust her?

However, I did not have long to wonder before a deafening clap of thunder rent the air and the already grey and leaden sky grew even darker as black clouds rolled in. As I looked up, something descended from the clouds on a flat red disc - or, rather, I should say some_one_ descended from the clouds. And it was someone I had come to know all too well, someone who had been an ominous character of my childhood and who I had now come to know as a dangerous reality.

"Mumm-Ra!" I heard myself saying.

But Mumm-Ra paid me no heed; all his attention was focused on Icelia, who had already sent two more Doomsday Birds on a one-way trip to the ground. "So," he said, looking directly at her, "you seek to destroy my agents." It took me a moment to cotton on to what he meant by "his agents", then I realised that he must be talking about the Doomsday Birds. He must have created them to patrol the desolation that had once been Third Earth - their mission: seek out and destroy the Thundercats and their allies.

"Yes, Mumm-Ra," Icelia replied, her tone of voice neutral. "My people were once on the side of evil - but not anymore!" With that, she focused her powers on Mumm-Ra and sent another bright blue beam in his direction, clearly aiming to do to him what she had done to the Doomsday Birds. However, there was one obvious flaw in her plan; Mumm-Ra was not going to let a few beams of ice bother him.

Sure enough, seconds before Icelia's beams reached him, Mumm-Ra vaporised them with a wave of his hand. He then turned his powers on the Ice Lunatac and, within moments, she was surrounded by a glowing force-field, her body paralysed and her powers rendered useless. And, as Icelia cried out in agony, Mumm-Ra laughed the insane laugh of a megalomaniac; it was clear that he believed his return meant the start of a whole new order, one in which anything that did not fit in with his twisted view of life had to be destroyed.

I could not let that happen. As a Thundercat, it was my duty to fight creatures like this. True, I had had my doubts about Icelia in the past, in particular whether or not she could be trusted, but I knew that, if I left her to her fate, I would be as bad as any one of the Cult. Without stopping to think of the consequences, I ran forward, hearing Jaya crying out to me to stop but paying her no heed. The only thing I was aware of was Mumm-Ra, a being I can only describe as the embodiment of evil.

* * *

As I charged towards Mumm-Ra, he raised his hands and sent a crackling pulse of energy towards me. Drawing on the battle training I had received from Pumar, I dodged aside at the last moment. I may have been young and inexperienced, but I knew enough to know that attempting to fight Mumm-Ra hand-to-hand would not be a wise move. My best hope was to stay out of range of his energy blasts and hope he would run out of power. If he ever did . . . Another blast came zooming towards me, but I jumped out of range, trying to resist the urge to laugh at the look of surprise and fury on Mumm-Ra's face.

Again and again, Mumm-Ra tried to blast me. And, again and again, I dodged. But I knew I could not keep this up indefinitely; what I really needed was some means to sending this demon packing, at least for a while. However, I had nothing that could have much effect here. I was a fourteen-year-old Thunderian facing a being who was countless thousands of years old, a being vanquished eighty years ago and now returned to do what he had once failed to do: defeat the Thundercats. For the first time, I was beginning to understand why Wilykit had always said Mumm-Ra was the deadliest enemy our people had ever known.

As I backed away, I stumbled over a rock and fell in a rather inelegant position. Before I could pick myself up, however, Mumm-Ra was looming over me, his hands crackling with energy. "Now I have you, boy!" he told me, gloating in his moment of triumph. "And, unlike your exalted ancestor, you have no Eye of Thundera to come to your aid!" With that, he raised his hands and prepared to blast me. Before he could do so, however, he was knocked off balance by a blast of ice. Startled, I looked round to see that Icelia had escaped from the force-field which, moments before, had had her trapped.

"What the . . .?" I began, but Icelia cut me short.

"Mumm-Ra was distracted - he couldn't attack you and keep me imprisoned at the same time," she told me. "Now, listen, I want you to get the Warrior Maiden out of here. Tell your father and the rest of your allies they must get off this planet as quickly as possible. I'll hold Mumm-Ra off as long as I can."

"But . . ." I had several objections to Icelia's plan, not least of which was the fact that, as a future Lord of the Thundercats, I could not leave anyone to fight a creature like Mumm-Ra alone. Icelia had, by taking Mumm-Ra on in combat, proved beyond doubt that she was on our side - and the Code of Thundera forbade the Thundercats from abandoned an ally in a time of need.

"Don't argue!" Icelia shouted as she and Mumm-Ra sized each other up. "Just get out of here!"

"But what about the Code of Thundera?" I demanded, not thinking about the irony of the fact that I was saying those words to someone I had, as recently as a few minutes ago, considered a potential enemy. "What about Third Earth?"

Icelia gave a bitter laugh. "You don't get it, do you? Third Earth is finished - it's been finished for the last few days. This is Fourth Earth now."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

I struggled to take in Icelia's words, though I knew deep down that they were true. On the other hand, part of me couldn't help but wonder. Was Third Earth really finished? Had this planet truly been transformed into Fourth Earth when all that energy was unleashed? I did not know, but one thing seemed certain; Mumm-Ra had triumphed. I did not want it to be so, but the bleak and barren landscape spoke for itself. Had it all been for nothing? Had I fought to protect the fragment of Statue which Wilykit had given me, only for the Thundercats' greatest enemy to win through in the end?

I was just pondering that bleak scenario when Icelia called out again. "Storm, get out of here! Take the Warrior Maiden and run!"

"Not a chance!" I told her. If she thought I was going to run away while she took on Mumm-Ra in a fight she couldn't hope to win, she didn't know me very well. The blood of Lord Lion-O flowed in my veins, as did that of generations of Thundercat Lords. We were sworn to fight evil, to ensure that the forces which Mumm-Ra represented were never allowed to gain too great a hold. Whether this planet was called Third Earth or Fourth Earth, we Thundercats were pledged to protect it. And that meant Mumm-Ra must once more be vanquished, a task which it was only fitting should fall to someone who had been born to Lion-O's line.

As Mumm-Ra raised his hands to attack, I bravely stood my ground, telling myself that, no matter what happened to me, I was acting in the name of Justice, Truth, Honour and Loyalty. The four main tenets of the Code of Thundera, the laws by which every Lord of the Thundercats had ruled since time immemorial . . . I thought back to the day, as a nine-year-old in trouble for not paying attention at school, I had repeated those words parrot-fashion with no real understanding of what they meant. Now, following everything that had happened lately, I had gained that understanding and I was determined to live, or die, by those principles.

A sudden blast of ice forced me to duck. I looked up to see Icelia standing there, a look of grim determination on her face as she faced off against Mumm-Ra. This wasn't right; she was a Lunatac, one of a race which had been allied with Mumm-Ra in the old days, and here she was fighting against him. I recalled the first time she had contacted me and shown me her fragment of the Statue of Omens. At the time, I wondered if it was a clever bluff, but now . . .

"Storm, I told you to get out of here!" Icelia shouted, dodging out of the way as Mumm-Ra attempted to blast her.

"Not until you explain a few things - like why you're fighting on our side." As far as I was concerned, Icelia still couldn't be entirely trusted; she was a Lunatac, after all, and I'd been taught all my life that Lunatacs were trouble. For one thing, the story she'd once told me about her people breaking their alliance with the Mutants sounded a little too contrived. How did I know she hadn't rehearsed the whole thing beforehand?

But, even as I was getting ready to stand my ground, Mumm-Ra raised his arms and blasted Icelia with all his energy at once. For a moment, she levitated into the air and hovered there, her body glowing as it had been lit from within. Then, as I looked on in horror, she fell to the ground and lay still.

* * *

At this point, I expected Mumm-Ra to turn on me. But I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cower before him, so I stood with my back straight and prepared to face him down. That, after all, was what Lion-O would have done and I was a member of the same noble line of Thundercats.

But the attack never came. Instead, I heard an unearthly scream, the sort of scream that can't really be described, except to say that it goes right through you. It took me a moment to realised that it was Mumm-Ra who had screamed, though perhaps it shouldn't have because he was the only being present who was capable of making such a sound. Then, as I watched, his body suddenly began to flicker, then slowly fade away. A look of utter horror crossed his evil face as he looked down at his hands and realised he could see straight through them.

"No!" he cried. "What is this? What's happening to me?"

"The Statue of Omens . . ." I looked around and saw that Icelia was struggling to sit up. Forgetting all the doubts I had had regarding whether I could ever trust her, I hurried to her side. "When the Cult summoned you, released you from your . . . imprisonment, they did not have all the . . . pieces." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of marble, which she held out to me. I examined it - the shape suggested an arm bent at the elbow. It was the same fragment of statue which she had shown me before.

"This," she said. "This has been your undoing, Mumm-Ra. You thought all the fragments had been . . . destroyed, that you could now enter this realm freely. But, as long as a single fragment . . . exists, you can never truly escape your . . . banishment."

I looked from Icelia to the fading Mumm-Ra, then back again. Finally, a lot of things were beginning to make sense, including why a fragment of the Statue had been given to a Lunatac. The police officer who gave Icelia her piece must have foreseen this eventuality, realised there might come a time when someone, perhaps in a misguided quest for power, would attempt to free Mumm-Ra. And, if all the fragments had to be destroyed in order to achieve that objective, all that needed to be done to prevent it was to make sure at least one fragment was not destroyed. The unknown officer must have known the Cult would never suspect a Lunatac, even one whose race was supposedly no longer allied with Plundarr, of possessing a piece.

* * *

Meanwhile, Mumm-Ra seemed to be struggling against the force which was causing him to fade. Sometimes, he would become almost solid again, but it never lasted for more than a few seconds. "I shall escape this!" he ranted. "I, Mumm-Ra, ever-living source of evil, cannot be defeated!"

"But you have been . . . defeated," Icelia told him. "You defeated yourself when you . . . attacked me."

"What are you talking about?"

Icelia smiled at him, an enigmatic smile, the sort of smile which means the person who's smiling know something the rest of us don't. "The Statue was more than . . . just a statue. There was an . . . enchantment on the pieces to ensure that, should you . . . somehow be freed even without the . . . destruction of all the . . . fragments, you would be . . . banished once more the moment the bearer of the last . . . piece died. And, you, Mumm-Ra, have just . . . brought about your own . . . exile . . ."

On the word "exile", Icelia slumped to the ground and lay motionless. At the same instant, I heard Mumm-Ra give a final, agonised cry and looked up just in time to see him fade out of view, leaving no sign that he had ever been present. No sign, that is, except the bleak grey landscape that had once been a thriving planet and the Ice Lunatac who lay at my feet. I looked down at Icelia, my mind filled with so many questions I wished I could ask her, questions which she would now never be able to answer.

* * *

I presently became aware of movement behind me and looked round. Jaya, despite her injured ankle, had crawled over to me and knelt beside me as we both looked at Icelia, lying there with her eyes staring blankly up at us. Eyes which no longer saw anything . . .

"Is she dead?" Jaya whispered, not taking her eyes off the fallen Lunatac.

I leaned over Icelia's chest and confirmed what I knew already. "Yes," I said, feeling a strange sense of disquiet as I spoke. It wasn't grief, at least not the sort of grief I had felt when Wilykit died, more a sense that Icelia needn't have died, if I had only trusted her from the beginning. Perhaps, we could have worked together, found some means of vanquishing Mumm-Ra that wouldn't involve any loss of life. But maybe there was no other way. Maybe Icelia had known all along that this was the only way Mumm-Ra could be defeated. "I think she sacrificed herself," I added, "to send Mumm-Ra back into exile." I slowly reached forward and closed Icelia's eyelids.

I don't know how long Jaya and I stayed there, kneeling beside a dead Lunatac. All I can say is that it felt weird, like something which went against the natural order of things. All my life, I had been brought up to regard the Mutants and Lunatacs as enemies, but I had just seen a Lunatac give her life to bring about the defeat of the Thundercats' deadliest enemy. I still didn't know if Icelia had truly been on our side, and it was unlikely I would ever find out, but at least I could be sure that she hadn't been on the Cult's side. So maybe there was some truth in the story she'd told about the Ice Lunatacs breaking away from Plundarr.

"There were so many questions I could have asked her," I murmured, reaching out to stroke Icelia's hair. "And now she can't answer them."

Jaya continued to look down at the body of the being we had, until only a few moments ago, regarded as a potential enemy. "She must have planned this all along."

"She did." Jaya and I looked around to see the astral form of Wilykit standing there, looking down at Icelia. "And, in doing so, she demonstrated a very rare courage. You see, Storm, courage is not just about being able to handle weapons or fight beings like Mumm-Ra. It means doing what must be done, no matter what the cost, even if that cost is your own life."

Jaya stared open-mouthed at the ghostly form of the Thundercat who had once been my friend and confidante. "Wow! Where'd you learn all that stuff?"

Wilykit smiled, just as she used to when she was alive and Hunter and I were bombarding her with questions. "I lived a long life, young Warrior Maiden," she replied simply. "A life long enough to gain much wisdom. And old Jaga said much the same thing when I was a child." With that, she vanished, leaving Jaya and myself kneeling beside Icelia, a Lunatac who had made the ultimate sacrifice.

* * *

And that was where a patrol from the Refuge found us. I don't know how long we had been there, only that we couldn't move because of Jaya's ankle, besides which we did not know what sort of perils this world now called Fourth Earth held. Fourth Earth . . . I recalled being told the story of how cataclysmic events had all but destroyed this planet on two previous occasions by the time the Thundercats landed here. In fact, the event which led to this becoming Third Earth had been so violent that virtually no trace of Second Earth remained. And now a third cataclysm had transformed this world into Fourth Earth.

Anyway, Jaya and I were still kneeling beside Icelia when we heard a noise. Instinctively, I jumped to my feet, forgetting that I was unarmed, but I found myself smiling with relief when my father came running towards us, followed by Kayon and Queen Tia. A dozen or so others, including Ocelotra and Pumar from among the Thundercats, followed them. "Storm, are you and Jaya all right?" my father asked the moment he drew level with us. "We were worried when you didn't report back. So I looked through the Eye of Thundera and . . ." He paused, noticing Icelia's body for the first time. "What's going on here?" He had obviously only seen part of what was happening.

I explained as much as I could, telling him how Jaya had stumbled and twisted her ankle, how I had tried to shield her from the Doomsday Birds, how Icelia had unexpectedly come to our rescue, how she and Mumm-Ra had fought . . . "And, then, when he killed her," I said, "something happened which sent him back where he came from. I don't know what it was, but it had something to do with her having one final piece of the Statue."

"Precisely, Storm," said Tia, stepping forward to join my father. "The Cult of Mumm-Ra were ignorant of one very important fact. When the Statue of Omens was broken and its pieces divided, a spell was cast to ensure that, should Mumm-Ra somehow be released, he could never truly be free as long as there was at least one fragment of the Statue in existence. By destroying the pieces they stole, the Cult weakened the enchantments which kept Mumm-Ra imprisoned just enough for them to bring him through into our realm. But they did not know that one of the fragments was missing."

She did not need to tell me that the final fragment had been the one which Icelia had carried with her. I knew this already, but Tia seemed to be forgetting one thing. "Wait a moment," I said. "Koris still had his piece when he was evacuated. And the spell was only supposed to work when the bearer of the last fragment died."

"Actually," Kayon cut in, "the Wollo and I agreed before he and the others left that he would jettison the piece as soon as the Feliner III passed a black hole." He did not need to elaborate; I already knew that a black hole was a point in space where gravity was so intense that nothing could escape, not even light. Provided you don't get too close, they come in handy if you want to dispose of anything. Such as a piece of the Statue of Omens . . .

So Icelia's fragment had indeed been the last. And, when she died, the enchantment on it meant Mumm-Ra was instantly sent back into exile, back to the place which could only be accessed via the Book of Omens. And, after everything that had happened, I could be certain that steps would be taken to make sure that, this time, he stayed exiled. "Is it over, then?" I heard myself asking.

"Yes, Storm," replied my father. Then, he looked down at Icelia with a frown on his face. "I never thought I'd see the day a Lunatac saved a Thundercat. Still . . ." He walked over to Jaya and picked her up in his arms. "Come on, we've got a planet to rebuild. And someone needs to contact the rest of the Thundercats to let them know we're all safe."

* * *

With Mumm-Ra safely back in exile, the task of helping Fourth Earth to emerge from the ruins of Third Earth could begin. Over the next few days, we sent regular patrols out to assess the damage and find out what had become of those inhabitants of the planet who had not been part of our alliance. In the process, we learned that the Snowmen of Hook Mountain had been completely wiped out, the Tuska warriors reduced to a handful. However, the unicorns and their two elf-like Keepers had all survived, protected by some ancient magic. But most other races had suffered at least some losses and the survivors were struggling to rebuild their lives amid the ruins of what had once been a thriving planet.

Lynxari and the two galactic police officers who had been overseeing the evacuation of the non-combatants brought the Wollos, Berbils, Bolkins and Brutemen back to the planet. I can't say "back to Third Earth" because this wasn't Third Earth anymore, though it had been Third Earth when they left, so saying "back to Fourth Earth" doesn't make sense either. Anyway, those simple folk were brought back to the ruins of the planet which had been home to all of them, a planet we must now rebuild. With that in mind, it was agreed that the Thundercats who were already on Fourth Earth should stay and help with the rebuilding, leaving Leopardo in charge of things on New Thundera.

The last fragment of the Statue presented its own problem. It was the only thing keeping Mumm-Ra imprisoned and we could not risk it being destroyed, even accidentally, lest it cause a repeat of recent events. In the end, we had to bury it, deep in the ground where it could not be disturbed, though we took the precaution of marking the spot with a pillar to warn people of what was buried there. Hopefully, that would deter anyone from digging in that spot, at least anyone who wasn't insane enough to want Mumm-Ra back, though there wasn't much risk of that right now. The location, meanwhile, became known as the Forbidden Spot.

Late one afternoon, I was standing with Koris and Jaya, the latter's ankle now fully recovered, talking about recent events. Most of the landscape around us was still grey and bleak, but we had already start to notice green shoots appearing, giving us all hope that this planet was beginning to recover from the cataclysm. It was too early to tell what sort of planet Fourth Earth would be, but we all knew it would be very different from its three previous incarnations.

"What sort of world do you think this will be?" Jaya asked at length.

"I don't know," I told her. Nor did anyone else on Fourth Earth, for that matter; all we did know was that we must build this whole planet up from scratch. Not an easy task, but, if we all worked together, I had no doubt that we could achieve a great deal. And the Thundercats would do it all in the name of Justice, Truth, Honour and Loyalty.

I turned and gazed at the sun as it sunk below the horizon to mark the end of another day on Fourth Earth, a planet for which this was only the beginning.


End file.
